Dingir, the curse of God, and now Campione?
by NexusDarkworldProductions
Summary: Dingir, an exorcist of the Seraph bloodline & slayer of devils, now finds himself the world of Campione after a mishap with dimension magic. Now as one who has consumed many Devils, Pandora modifies his stolen powers into Authorities and turns him into the Eighth Campione. Self insert, OC, Grey Faction crossover. (Some Fate/Stay Night elements)
1. A new kind of God Slayer

**Dingir the curse of God, and now Campione?**

* * *

 _"Dingir, the recently turned immortal exorcist, devourer of demons, descendant of God, wielder of the holy swords Balmung and Gram, is accidentally sent into an alternate Earth by Lilith's magic. Trapped until she can find him, he tries to travel, but soon discovers that his powers and victories marked him as a Campione in this world. Good luck Heathen Gods, here comes a real tough bastard, with a LOT of powers."_

 _ **Campione X Grey Faction crossover**_

* * *

 **Chapter One: A new kind of God Slayer**

* * *

Such a simple thing, a single bad decision had dragged Dingir away from his world. Lilith had tried to jump him in his sleep again. She was eight hundred years his senior but she looked like a petite blonde girl, no older than fifteen. For the burly thirty year old man, it seemed more than a little wrong. Plus he was like three times the size of her.

He'd probably kill her if he ever slept with her, and not just because of the physical impracticality, as a descendant of both the God of the Bible and the Seraphim Adel, every cell in his body passively released Holy magic, it was like being doused in holy water 24/7, didn't stop the little demon from trying, confident in her regeneration that it was viable. Hell no!

Lilith could move through dimensional portals for transportation, to hide, and to redirect attacks. As he dived out of his bedroom, she was quick to follow, "don't be shy, sweetie!" she called after him.

"Are you trying to get me arrested, Lilith?" he called back as he landed, and immediately dashed off in just his underwear.

"How? I'm the one robbing the cradle here," she laughed, vanishing into a portal, appearing behind him suddenly. He ducked under her as she went for a hug/tackle. With her super human strength, he wouldn't be able to break free easily.

He should have moved forward, but he stepped back, unwittingly falling into one of Lilith's portal's, transportation meant only for her. His magic reacted badly to it, and he disappeared, not reappearing from another of Lilith's portals.

"Mark?" she called out after him, using his real name. One he seldom used anymore. The young warrior who had stolen her heart was gone...

* * *

 _(Pandora's Realm)_

* * *

Mark Green, also known by the moniker of Dingir, found himself in an empty realm of swirling grey. His head was resting on the lap of a young girl he didn't recognise, but she radiated power and wisdom. But he didn't react, his body strangely relaxed and his mind calm.

"Our world's are truly different," she remarked softly. "For you to claim the authorities of so many Gods and Devils without my contributions or becoming a Campione, it is truly remarkable. Though from another world, I welcome you as my new son and you shall be reborn as the great king, the devil king, the God slayer, arise as the Eighth Campione and defend my Earth from horror as you did in yours," the young girl declared.

Dozens of black, white, gold, and other coloured orbs erupted from his body, changed, and then re-entered him. Energy filled him, something fundamentally had been changed. But why was he unable to react? This girl needed to send him home, not sidewinder him to another world.

"W-Who are you?" he forced out, his body hit with a strong compulsion to sleep.

"I am the Goddess Pandora, bringer of all the world's evils and along with it a flicker of hope. As one who stopped that evil in your world, I am curious as to what you'll do in a world where the age of Gods never ended. Good luck." Everything went dark.

* * *

 _(Rome, Italy)_

* * *

Dingir awoke in a grassy field. It was delightfully warm, yawning, he regarded the brilliant blue sky. He definitely wasn't in England anymore. 'Pandora, huh?' he thought, slowly standing. The air and earth was thick with divine magic and nature magic. He could believe that the age of Gods still existed here. He had to get back of course, but in the meanwhile this world could prove interesting.

"But where am I?" Dingir remarked, he spotted the Coliseum in the distance. So, he was in Italy. A strong wind blew by. A sudden chill. He looked down to find he was still in just his underwear, and with his height and physique, he wouldn't able to shop here anyway. 'Wait...shop, I don't have my wallet or cards.' A moment of dread, he sighed. It wasn't the first time he had stolen to get by. Nor the first reality he had been dropped into without money, but at least then he knew Yahweh would take him back eventually. This time it would be more difficult.

Ignoring the sense of embarrassment, he headed in direction of the city, not knowing that a familiar being would be making an appearance. Siegfried the dragon slayer had come to Rome, along with two Campione.

* * *

 **CHAPTER END**

 _Next chapter:_ _ **The Siegfried in my world is stronger**_

* * *

 _Sorry this chapter is so short, I just wanted to get the concept idea out there. Now as for Siegfried, he exists in the Grey Faction series as the main villain, and is an amazing badass. The next chapter will be a lot longer and have some main characters from the anime, and lots of fighting. Also as you know certain heroes and villains are counted as Gods in the anime, so I'm counting powerful beings in the Grey Faction world as authority suppliers, and he did actually nick a bunch of powers, though some will change to fit the new system of power in the anime, and his angel powers will become authorities as well, even though he never killed the Seraphim Adel who gave it to him through their shared blood._

* * *

 _Check out Dingir/Mark's Campione stats below..._

 _ **Name:**_ _Mark Green_

 _ **Alias:**_ _Dingir, Fake Angel, Legion_

 _ **Authorities gained from the following Gods:**_ _Yahweh, Adel, Sigurd, Asag, Aka Manah, and Belial._

 _ **All Authorities:**_

 _ **Purification of Evil (**_ _Capable of purifying evil and demonic)_

 _ **Wings of the Seraphim**_ _(Grows six angelic wings that allow flight and stronger purifying power)_

 _ **Angel's Blessed Body**_ _(a strong and sturdy body that also releases angelic purification)_

 _ **Origin Magic**_ _(Tapping into reality altering power of the one true God, one use per decade)_

 _ **Universal Immortality**_ _(Impossible to be killed by anything, injuries are possible though)_

 _ **Balmung the curse of God**_ _(A living curse made from Yahweh's hatred, can be used for many things)_

 _ **Gram the Golden sword**_ _(A golden sword once wielded by the hero Sigurd, an ultimate holy sword)_

 _ **Asag Knight armour**_ _(using Balmung as a medium, it creates armour that grants great strength, speed, and Asag's evil powers)_

 _ **Asag worms**_ _(parasitic worms that can be used to control others, but will cause their bodies to rot)_

 _ **Pestilence world**_ _(releases a massive cloud of poison from pores that rots anything nearby or anything you touch)_

 _ **Pestilence breath**_ _(breath out poison that can cause sleep or rot)_

 _ **Puppetry of Evil**_ _(allows you to control up to ten evil beings at once)_

 _ **All consuming Darkness**_ _(engulfs surroundings in darkness, can also rob all senses while within it)_

 _ **Negative Eater**_ _(when surrounded by the pain and negative emotions of others, can feed upon it to recover or grow stronger)_

* * *

 _ **Most of these authorities do not have a limit on how many times they can be used, though several need to used in tandem with the others.**_


	2. The Siegfried in my world is stronger

**Dingir the curse of God, and now Campione?**

* * *

 _"Dingir, the recently turned immortal exorcist, devourer of demons, descendant of God, wielder of the holy swords Balmung and Gram, is accidentally sent into an alternate Earth by Lilith's magic. Trapped until she can find him, he tries to travel, but soon discovers that his powers and victories marked him as a Campione in this world. Good luck Heathen Gods, here comes a real tough bastard, with a LOT of powers."_

* * *

 _ **Campione X Grey Faction crossover**_

 **Chapter Two: The Siegfried in my world is stronger**

* * *

Dingir had expected to be stared at or mocked for walking through the city in just his underwear. But everyone was running, screaming, focused on matters of survival. Further in, he saw houses on fire, less people here, but many dead littered the streets, their bodies shredded beyond the point of recognition, just chunks of burning meat.

A voice whispered within his mind, soft, sweet, urging him to kill, there was something here he needed to fight. Knowledge slowly entered his mind as he drew closer, now he could sense something that radiated the golden aura of a God, yet it was tainted by some primordial madness. He had never felt this before.

"A heretic God..." he whispered as Pandora's magic he now realised, taught him. Hammering it into his very soul. She had made him a God Slayer, his body was stronger, though his magic had changed, even his stolen power had changed, now they were Authorities. Weapons of divine will. Until he could get home, the Heretic Gods of this world would provide him with much entertainment, and food for the living curse, Balmung.

He walked into a open area with a fountain at its centre. There was lots of blood, but no corpses, as nearby a group of small black dragons had piled up the dead, and were devouring them in mass.

Authority, he instinctively understood that these were not monsters, but part of a Heretic God's Authority. They were black, about the same size as a large horse. Oddly their scales were edged in diamonds, gold, and silver. It reminded him of a story near and dear to his own legend. The Seraphim that took the form of a great dragon, its wealth was immense, with its treasure becoming a part of its own flesh, when wounded it even bled molten gold. The great dragon Fafnir...

* * *

 _Identity confirmed, the Authority: 'Fafnir Kindred' detected..._

* * *

"So there's either a really big fucking dragon around here," mused Dingir as he approached the feasting dragons. "Or I'll be running into Sigurd again," he chuckled, this world's one would obviously be different. His Sigurd, or Siegfried as he went by after his 'death' had gained immortality via a curse, he wasn't a God. Still... 'I'd rather fight a God than meet my world's Siegfried ever again.' That man had been terrifying. A peerless hero turned villain, and one who's martial might far exceeded his own. But if the Heretic Gods were based on the legends of this world as Pandora's information injection indicated, then this one would be much easier to fight.

The dragons turned to face him as they heard his bare feet slapping on the cobblestones. He was about to gather his power when chants, words of power flooded his mind. His Authorities demanded a verbal chant to unleash their full power. "How childish...I'll sound like one of those early Sentai ranger shows."

The dragons growled, unsure whether to kill him or continue eating the already dead. This one didn't run or show fear, and that unnerved them somewhat.

"Greetings hatchlings of Fafnir, I am Dingir, the eighth Campion, prepare yourself!" A black and gold aura filled with sickening magic engulfed him. The dragons all took to the air, and began charging flame attacks. _**"Born by the legend of a false immortal, reaching to the heavens, I demand the Creator's light, bringing endless salvation, now cleave and present the promised victory and ruin that slays even the great dragon!"**_ A one handed sword appeared in his hand, it shone like polished gold and emitted a great golden light, with a single swing of his sword, the sky seemed to rent and all the dragons were beheaded.

They fell, decorating buildings and the fountain area with golden blood and gore.

"I think I'm going to like being a Campione."

Godou Kusanagi, the seventh Campione, had been living in Italy for close to a month now, ever since killing the Persian war god and claiming ten authorities by tremendous good fortune, he had been learning about the hidden magical world, his responsibilities as a devil king, and how to use his Authorities effectively.

His new companion and self declared lover Erica Blandelli, a beautiful blonde mage who had helped him fight the god Verethragna had been very helpful with interacting with the magical associations, to which he was a complete novice at the time. Though he could do without her relentless flirting, as he lacked the emotional defences being only seventeen and lacking any note worthy experience with women.

When it came to fight practice with his Authorities, Italy's Campione, Salvator Doni, the Sixth Campione, was more than happy to help him. Or rather he used the Seventh as a punching bag to ease his boredom and desire to fight a strong opponent. However given that Salvator had only half as many Authorities as the Seventh, Godou had occasionally pulled out draws and victories, which only delighted the swordsman all the more.

One day, on a beautiful summer's morning, the three of them were interrupted in their training by the sudden approach of a Heretic God, one desiring revenge against Salvador, having stolen several Authorities from him in the past. Siegfried the dragon slayer flew from the skies on the back of gigantic black dragon. "Campione, I have come for your life!" Siegfried bellowed. The bronzed man wielded a golden sword and dressed in finely made leather and iron armour.

"You again..." sighed Salvator, activating the **Man of Steel** , and the **Rippling arm of Silver** , his divine blade ready to face its former master. "Don't you get sick of having your myths and Authorities stripped away by me?"

"Heh, ever the lacking speech of a low born fool, but I have many versions of my myths, you see, and I am not Siegfried the dragon slayer, I am Sigurd the curse of God, the oldest and strongest of my legends. You will be no match for me now!"

"Hou...don't disappoint me again," replied Salvator. He turned to Godou who was also ready for battle. "Godou-kun, I won't ask you to not get involved, take the dragon king if you wish, but this God is mine!" and with that he leapt through the air, landing on Fafnir's head attacking with the Rippling Silver, allowing him to cut through anything, but the golden sword easily stopped it in its tracks. The golden sword let loose a terrible shriek, and Salvator was repelled, sent skidding back, minor burns appearing on his flesh. His defensive Authority not blocking the attack as it should.

"Impressive, your body should have been obliterated," remarked Siegfried. "Truly, even my lesser incarnations are impressive, but none shall compare to the might of the Gram, the blade of ruin of salvation that drew the wrath of the one true God upon me, and my absolute immortality!"

Salvator regarded the Heretic God warily, indeed the earliest version of a God was often the strongest, but it seemed the mythos of the Volsunga was truly more impressive than the last version he had fought against. He grinned. This might actually be fun.

Siegfried's ire mounted at that grin, and actually spoke his chant, for a mighty attack that would also separate the annoying man from the other Campione who was watching from below. _**"Born by the legend of a wrathful God, reaching unto the heavens, I devoured the Creator's golden blood, siring endless salvation and punishment, now present the promised victory and ruin that slays even the Seraphim themselves!"**_ All their surroundings were engulfed in a tremendous golden light and pressure, and when it faded, Salvator and Siegfried were gone, their training grounds rubble, but Godou and Erica were still alive and awaiting the attentions of the great dragon Fafnir.

"Are you okay, Erica?"

"Of course, now focus on the enemy, a dragon is a mighty foe, even for us," she replied, using her magic to summon the **Cuore di Leone**.

Godou summoned the massive form of the **Boar avatar** , and hurled it at Fafnir, and as the two gigantic creatures collided, the Campione and Bronze-Black Cross mage charged in with follow up attacks and spell craft.

* * *

Their battle raged for hours, parts of the city now engulfed in flames, Siegfried had proven much stronger than Salvator had thought possible and might actually lose the fight. He had tried to protect the people as they fought, but then Siegfried had released an avatar in the form of many small black dragons that fed upon those fleeing.

The normally relaxed warrior was now angry. 'If only he didn't have the Gram!' he internally raged as he continued to lock blades with the Heretic God. One of the greatest holy swords in existence, and the inspiration for the sword of stone, the Caliburn. Only Excalibur exceeded it, and not by much. No wonder his Silver wasn't working. 'Please Godou, hurry up, I need your help, anyone!' it was practically a prayer. But it was answered.

He was smashed into a building, Salvator slid down, his Man of Steel beginning to wear off. He vomited blood. Siegfried stood over him, smug in his victory. "This is the end, and I shall reclaim mine Authorities, low life!" the Gram was raised, radiating power.

"So it was Sigurd after all," remarked a deep man's voice, speaking the name of the God's eldest incarnation. Turning they saw a tall muscular man approaching them, oddly only wearing boxer shorts. He walked like a seasoned warrior, and his body was covered in red and white scars. "Yet he still has the Gram, hmmm...perhaps because it's another world's variant?" he mused to himself.

"Who are you?" demanded Siegfried, pointing his weapon at the newcomer, "leave now or die," he warned.

"Nah, I'm good," Dingir replied. "I was curious how you compared to the other one, so I'm going to step in."

"Hou, you mean to fight me, with no weapon, armour, or magic? How foolish!" Siegfried remarked.

"It's fine," Dingir replied. "I have Balmung." A sudden pressure hit the Heretic God and Campione. **"** _ **Peerless life, forever binding from death, invincible, the great sheath, the loving parent, the ultimate wrath of a vengeful God that will slice, cleave and feed upon all under Heaven's skies!"**_ In his hand appeared a black sword, slightly wider at its middle, and radiating a power so vast and full of despair that the two saw their own violent deaths in their minds.

"Impossible, Balmung never existed in such a form, nor did I lose it to you!" growled Siegfried, anger spiking.

"Another Campione?" whispered Salvator, relieved. He had been about to risk another of his Authorities, but it would strike such a wide range that it would kill any survivors, and so he had hesitated and lost as a result. But another Campione, none had been reported since Godou, was he new, or had he simply hidden himself from the magical community? Why was he in his underwear? Then there were those scars, most injuries and faults within ones bodies disappeared upon becoming a Campione, and yet he had so many, some were particularly horrible, what kind of battles and experiences had this man faced to look like that. This newcomer was a veteran of combat. 'I can put my faith in you, right?' thought Salvator.

"Indeed, you may call me Dingir, the curse of God," Dingir declared, taking a wide stance, with his sword hand positioned at the back, and the other hand held as though about to grasp something. Siegfried winced at hearing his own moniker being used by a Campione, it implied he had been slain before him in the past, he recalled no such defeat.

Siegfried channelled immense divine magic in his blade, utilizing the aspect of the sun, he would incinerate this fool who dared mock and interfere with his revenge.

But then Dingir was engulfed in a similar golden light.

"What's this?!"

Dingir began to chant, he had always preferred using multiple weapons. " **Born by the legend of a false immortal, reaching to the heavens, I demand the Creator's light, bringing endless salvation, now cleave and present the promised victory and ruin that slays even the great dragon!"** the man's chant was clearly similar to Siegfried's own, and a similar golden sword appeared in his other hand. "Let's see how your Gram measures up to mine."

"I do not know how you have done this, but I will have you suffer before your death, Campione!" roared Siegfried, disappearing at god speeds, colliding with Dingir, and explosion of golden magic, that blew away buildings, leaving flattened, seared earth in its place.

Then it abruptly warped and vanished, revealing Siegfried missing an arm, along with most of his torso on his right side. "W-What is this?"

"All the hatred of a God, meant to devour ones power, and endlessly punish them as a weak immortal, well that is true for my world's Siegfried." Dingir replied. "To me it is a wonderful form changing weapon that can devour like a rabid beast." The black sword was larger, bulging and contracting, it was chewing, eating.

"You world's?" repeated Siegfried in a stunned whisper. "I see, there is a legend even greater than mine..." He collapsed in a dispersing cloud of gold wisps that soon vanished.

"I was right, my world's version was much more impressive," Dingir sighed, deactivating his two Authorities, they vanished in a swirl of light. "How disappointing."

Salvator hadn't heard these words, but he had seen the Heretic God die. Dingir headed over to him, crouching down, he lifted him up and slung the Sixth Campione over his shoulder. "Thanks, I owe you one," said Salvator as he was carried away from the destruction.

"Hmm...then repay me with a trip to the tailors," Dingir replied.

"Haha! So cheap my life is!" laughed Salvator Doni. "That reminds me, why are you dressed so lightly?"

"Would you believe me if I said a horny 800 year old Loli teleported me to Italy after she tried to jump me in my sleep and instead I jumped out of my place to get away?"

"You lead an interesting life, don't you?" Salvator remarked.

"It has had its moments."

"So how long have you been a Campione?"

"No comment." Dingir replied, starting to regret saving him already.

"That's no fun, then how many Gods have you killed?"

"No comment."

"How many Authorities then?"

"I should have asked for more," Dingir sighed.

* * *

 **(CHAPTER END)**

 _Next Chapter: Three Campione in Italy_

* * *

Well I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I cracked it out quickly in celebration that my new book, **Grey Faction 2: Mistaken Apostles** is now available to buy in paperback on LULU. Help support me by purchasing a copy. The first book, **Grey Faction 1: Arrival of the Grey Queen** is out on Amazon, Barnes &Noble, and LULU, and most major online retailers.

* * *

 _Check out Dingir/Mark's Campione stats below, this time I've included the chants for the Authorities._

 _ **Name:**_ _Mark Green_

 _ **Alias:**_ _Dingir, Fake Angel, Legion, and now Eighth Campione_

 _ **Authorities gained from the following Heretic Gods:**_

 _Yahweh, Adel, Sigurd, Asag, Aka Manah, and Belial._

* * *

 _ **All Authorities:**_

 _ **Purification of Evil (**_ _Capable of purifying evil and demonic)_ _In the name of Adel, let there be light, let all evil be purged and destroyed, Amen!_

 _ **Wings of the Seraphim**_ _(Grows six angelic wings that allow flight and stronger purifying power)_ _Hear no evil, speak no evil, see no evil, six great coverings that ascend the body and know the sky and soar ever onward!_

 _ **Angel's Blessed Body**_ _(a strong and sturdy body that also releases angelic purification - a passive skill)_ _Enduring all evils, knowing the creators love, a light that denies weak mortal flesh and ascends to the legends of the Seraphim!_

 _ **Origin Magic**_ _(Tapping into reality altering power of the one true God, one use per decade)_ _I am the creator of all things, I birthed all that has existed and all that will ever exist, as such none are my equal or better, the supreme divine light shines high, all thought be mine gift, all reality be mine body, a tenth of a century fed to possibility, let my will be done!_

 _ **Balmung, the curse of God**_ _(A living curse made from Yahweh's hatred, can be used for many things, including as storage, a weapon, and an anchor that denies death, etc...)_ _Peerless life, forever binding from death, invincible, the great sheath, the loving parent, the ultimate wrath of a vengeful God that will slice, cleave and feed upon all under Heaven's skies._

 _ **Gram the Golden sword**_ _(A golden sword once wielded by the hero Sigurd, an ultimate holy sword)_ _Born by the legend of a false immortal, reaching to the heavens, I demand the Creator's light, bringing endless salvation, now cleave and present the promised victory and ruin that slays even the great dragon!_

 _ **Asag Knight armour**_ _(using Balmung as a medium, it creates armour that grants great strength, speed, and Asag's evil powers)_ _The curse be thy body, the great enemy will be thine power, wrap in deepest shadows, procreate the greatest poison, Oh rot away lowly ones, the great might consumes all sanity and delivers death!_

 _ **Asag worms**_ _(parasitic worms that can be used to control others, but will cause their bodies to rot, can be used on the recently dead though)_ _That which wriggles, festers, and births in death, demanding obedience, emerge, devour, reign, guide, Obey!_

 _ **Pestilence world**_ _(releases a massive cloud of poison from pores that rots anything nearby or anything you touch)_ _Let mine body be a river of death, that fills the seas, land, and sky, rot, rot, oh rot endlessly, that which birthed from mountains, deliverer of time and the end, rot, rot, oh know the agony that is the world!_

 _ **Pestilence breath**_ _(breath out poison that can cause sleep or rot)_ _Know the word, breath the death, let thy life know the divider of all life!_

 _ **Puppetry of Evil**_ _(allows you to control up to ten evil beings at once)_ _There is evil in their hearts oh Lord! Let that be thy focus, swarm, extend, demand, obey! Each finger is thy God, so evil ones, Obey!_

 _ **All consuming Darkness**_ _(engulfs surroundings in darkness, can also rob all senses while within it)_ _Fools! Be denied light! Know not the great five paths to salvation, stumble and fade away, forever lost!_

 _ **Negative Eater**_ _(when surrounded by the pain and negative emotions of others, can feed upon it to recover or grow stronger)_ _Let hate be my lover, let pain and fear be my greatest feast, Oh great shadow of humanity, gather upon the tails of madness!_

* * *

 _ **Most of these authorities do not have a limit on how many times they can be used, though several need to used in tandem with the others, particularly Balmung. He doesn't have to chant for most of them, but they get stronger if he does though, like Godou.**_


	3. Bonus: Dingir dreams of a monster

**_A/N: To answer a question about Dingir that I was PM about, Dingir isn't a demi God or anything like that, after awakening to Origin Magic to pull in power from your bloodline, he gained the power of the Nephilim, his ancient ancestor was Adel the Seraphim, and at the cost of his vitality, Dingir could purify evil and destroy even devils._**

 **A Nephilim is half angel, or quarter God.**

 **Dingir is 1% God, 2% Angel, 97% human.** ** _(or 100% badass to quote the song)_**

 ** _This chapter is mostly a flashback, but will give you a good idea how he fought with his powers in his original world, think of him as being doused in really strong holy water 24/7._**

* * *

 **Dingir the curse of God, and now Campione?**

* * *

 _"Dingir, the recently turned immortal exorcist, devourer of demons, descendant of God, wielder of the holy swords Balmung and Gram, is accidentally sent into an alternate Earth by Lilith's magic. Trapped until she can find him, he tries to travel, but soon discovers that his powers and victories marked him as a Campione in this world. Good luck Heathen Gods, here comes a real tough bastard, with a LOT of powers."_

* * *

 ** _Campione X Grey Faction crossover_**

 **Chapter 2.5 (Bonus) Dingir dreams of a monster**

* * *

 **(MULTI POV)**

 _We had brought the mansion at an excellent price, four stories, acres of land, a massive swimming pool, even an extensive basement level with a fully equipped gym at only a fraction of its market value, but we should have known it was too good to be true. If it was as simple as someone died here before, or it was used by a drug cartel, I wouldn't have cared in the slightest._

 _To be honest even a ghost wouldn't have been all that bad, whose wife doesn't have a few occult knickknacks lying around that might be handy in such a situation? What we were to soon face was significantly worse than the plot of a recycled omen movie. Our danger sadly had a physical presence._

 _It started with our pets, we had three dogs, good sturdy beasts that a wolf or coyote would likely come away poorly from a confrontation with them, not those flimsy custom purse poodles that spoiled teens oddly favour. Sweet as our dogs were with my wife and kids, I knew they were fighters, as during a break-in about five years ago, when six men broke into our home, they were half-dead by the time I got downstairs with my shot gun, savaged with admirable predatory skill. No remains were discovered, we reported them missing, but the police weren't too bothered. They assumed they'd simply gotten loose, and doubted criminal intent as it was a high end neighbourhood, and wild animal attacks were extremely rare._

 _Then came the growls and large scratch marks on the walls, deep gouges, impossibly large, that no bear could hope to imitate. While my wife wanted to put up security cameras to see what had caused the damage, we certainly hadn't found anything skulking in our new home, and if we had it would have killed us in our sleep. I knew something was fundamentally wrong, I had grown up on horror stories, and my family always liked the ancient sagas, heroes, and pantheons of forgotten gods. I had never really believed in it, but I had enjoyed it. In the off-chance something like that was really happening, I didn't plan to be part of a B-list horror flick. I hurried to my new study, most of it was still in boxes, even before the dogs had vanished, I had been busy getting everything settled. Moving across States was no simple task._

 _The one thing in the study that was being used, was a small safe built into the wall. It was an older model, but still good, sturdy iron. I put in the key and turned it, inside were not treasures in the normal sense, only to me, rare photos of my now deceased parents, they had never been one for such things, my father's signet ring, a worn and frayed toy that I was too embarrassed to put in display or keep in the bedroom or on a random shelf. I was nearly fifty years old._

 _I searched through the various priceless objects and pulled out a business card. It was worse for wear but still readable, on it read 'John Hickson', beneath that in smaller golden font was a phone number with several extra digits. On the reverse was the name of an occult shop both my parents liked to go to when I was young._ ** _The Demon Workshop,_** _it was an old, bizarre place with incredible, impossible products. I had loved it. The owner was a bald man in either his thirties or forties, it was hard to tell with the mass of connected tattoos that covered his skin. They glowed like magic, but that could easily be the delusions of an imaginative child._

 _He was a nice, if strange man, he had given him this business card, making it appear in a flash of blue light, like magic._

 _"If you ever need our services little one, don't hesitate to call, we are always open."_

 _I dialled the number on my mobile phone, the card then began to glow, and I almost dropped it. A deep growl echoed at the edge of my hearing, I span, but saw nothing. Heart pounding, I put the phone to my ear again. It connected._

 _"Welcome to the Demonic Workshop, our operating times are always, and our services cover from the mundane, to the magical, to the delightfully demonic," spoke a familiar man's voice. "How can we help you today, caller?"_

 _Another growl echoed, this time louder, more guttural._

 _"Oh dear!" said the voice at the other end of the line. "You might want to be quick with what you want, it sounds rather big."_

 _"I think I have a monster or something in my house, can you come help?" I demanded, as the man could hear the growl as well._

 _"Of course!" the voice replied. "Now run to your door and place the business card anywhere on the door and then turn it."_

 _"What?"_

 _"Just do it, or you'll be dead in a few seconds," came back the chillingly light reply to mortal peril._

 _The creek of wooden floor, inside my study!_

 _I ran as fast as I could, and slammed the card against the hard wood, and yanking it open, too frightened, I dived through, a bellow sounding behind me. I slammed the door shut and scrambled back. It was then I realised I was inside a massive, ancient looking shop, and not the hallway that it should have connected to. Magic!_

* * *

 _"My cards are rather special you see," said the speaker from the phone, I turned and saw a middle aged tattooed man standing about ten feet away, using a fifties style phone that was mounted to the wall. It was him, and somehow he hadn't aged a day. "Touch any door and you can come here, one of my more ingenious magicks, I must admit." He put down the phone, and approached, offering me a hand to get up. I accepted. He yanked me up._

 _"John Hickson?" I blurted._

 _"That's right," he affirmed._

 _"W-Why haven't you aged?" I demanded._

 _"Oh? New are we, that's surprising, I don't give out those cards often, you know."_

 _"I came here as a kid with my parents..." I began, unsure how to articulate what I wanted to say._

 _"Ah, that would explain your confusion, the answer is simple: magic!"_

 _What I wanted to say was cut off as the door began to shake and a deep, guttural bellow filled the store. "Oh god, it's coming!"_

 _"Well, that's a surprise, it can sense my magic, normally demons can't come here unless I let them," noted Hickson with mild surprise, but no fear. Though as the hinges and wood began to warp, he began to pull me away. "We probably shouldn't be close when it breaks in."_

 _"What?"_

 _The door exploded, though the shards vanished into thin air, likely magic again. From the opening then came a huge mass of shadowy bulk, I saw glowing red eyes and a mass of gigantic teeth, almost human, but big enough to swallow us both with ease. It let loose a bellow, eyeing me with evil intent. This was the thing that killed my dogs, scarred up my walls, and followed me when I called for help._

 _It began to squeeze though the gap, holy shit, it was big!_

 _I turned to John Hickson as he carefully led me further back, out of reach, as a massive bear like arm, with sword-like claws swung at us, missing us by inches. It growled again, and began twisting about, trying to get in fully, God's above, it was big!_

 _"Mark, take care of this!" shouted Hickson to the second floor of the shop._

 _"Don't order me about," said a deep, but young voice. Someone jumped down from the second floor, landing in front of us, he was big, he wore a long leather jacket, that reached his knees, and in each hand he carried a sword. They glowed, magic again, I suspect._

 _The monster bellowed in a rage and swung at the newcomer, this 'Mark' parried the claws, cutting through them easily, as though he was using a light-sabre or something equally impossible._

 _The monster breathed out a mass of red 'something', but suddenly my eyes were engulfed in a blinding white light and I was forced to close them. As the burning tingle faded, I hesitantly opened them, and we were alone, the monster was gone. The once destroyed door was gone, replaced by an old wooden one that matched the shop's antique decor._

 _"It got away," said the young man, turning to face them, a faint irritation showing his features. He was younger than I thought, eighteen at the very most. He hard dark hair, that verged on being black, and strange grey eyes, with many bags under them, he likely didn't sleep much. I didn't recognise his accent, could be English, could be Australian, and I would probably get it wrong. "Should I go kill it?" he asked._

 _"Now that depends on our guest here," replied Hickson. I looked at him, in surprise. "We are a business Mister Conner, I assume you can afford our rates?"_

 _I panicked. "I'll pay anything you ask, please just get that thing out of my house!" I didn't even question at the time, of how the shop owner remembered me, I did not favour my father's features, and it was forty years ago._

 _"Your house...shit!" sighed Mark, giving Hickson a meaningful look, before turning to me. "You got family in that house?" he asked. I felt a chill, of course, if it wasn't here, then it was there, with my family..._

 _"We have to hurry!" I yelled._

 _"I'll reconnect my door to another door in your home, as that one was destroyed. What's your address?" Hickson asked, while Mark sheathed his swords, which were tied to his belt, his long coat hiding them from view. He then grabbed a number of objects off the shelves, and stuffed them into his pocket. I rattled off my address to the apparently un-aging shop owner._

 _Numerous glowing, spinning magic circles appeared in front of Hickson, he ran his fingers against them, they span and changed, the ancient looking symbols shifting and adapting to their creator's will. "Well get going then," the magic circles flew towards the door, sticking to it, and melding into the woodwork._

* * *

 _Mark calmly headed for the door, as he opened it, I saw the entrance hall, we must be using the front door, no monster was waiting there, but then I heard my children scream. Mark leapt through the door and hurried in the direction of the noise. On panicked, adrenaline fuelled feet, I hurried after him. The creature was in the dining room, one of the few places that could give it freedom of movement, though it had no trouble chasing me in my room._

 _My youngest, Katie was holding a bloody leg and crying, my wife lay unconscious on the floor, bleeding heavily from her temple. Meanwhile, Harry and Elizabeth were in the grip of the monster, one in each hand. Eyeing them, deciding which to eat first. "Get away from my family!" I bellowed, rushing the creature without any thought. It casually swiped at me, sending me sprawling._

 _"Daddy!"_

 _"Daddy, help!"_

 _Both the creatures arms were sliced off, my children fell to the ground, still in its shadowy, dismembered grip. Mark placed a hand on each child, whispering something, it sounded like Latin or Spanish, I wasn't sure which._

 _"Malo Purget..."_ _The two demonic limbs dissolved in a brief flash of light, he quickly passed my children to me, as the creature thrashed about in apparent agony. I retreated with my children, as I set them down with the others, he spoke to me. "Take them all to the shop, they'll tend to your injuries." The monster re-grew it's arms, and swelled in rage, casting a deep shadow on their surroundings. "I can't promise that your house will survive." He took a stance, a white aura surrounding his body and weapons._

 _"Pretty..." said Elizabeth, as I left with my family, my wife and Katie slung over my shoulder, my children hurrying ahead, glad to be away from the monster. I didn't spare the young man a glance as we fled for our lives, I could only hope that he could handle it._

* * *

 _Mark let loose a sigh of relief, the family would just get in the way. He ran about the large room as masses of shadows erupted from the creatures body, he dodged them while throwing small balls of blessed silver, as they struck against the massive demon's malleable, shadowy body, they exploded like a tiny grenade, burying the shards deep into the creature's body. Mark dived behind and upturned table to avoid the shards. The blessed silver began to burn the creature from the inside, it shrieked, and began ripping the 'infected' parts from its body._

 _"Huh? that's a first," Mark remarked in surprise. Then the creature regenerated, much faster, it was growing used to his purifying magic. It's arms had regenerated too, it slapped him with massive force, smashing him through the surrounded walls. Mark vomited blood, his back and neck spasming in pain. As the creature charged at him, he hurled a bottle of Holy water into its mouth. It pulled back with a shriek. Mark struggled to his feet, eyes glowing like molten gold, his angelic power growing stronger. Now he was pissed off. He approached the creature, "Sanctitudo..."_ _he muttered, it was time for the kill. "Let's see how many times you can regenerate."_

 ** _"Dingir!"_** _growled the monster, blasting at him with red mist from its mouth, igniting the air around them._

* * *

 _All of my family were going to live, the shop had first aid, and even a place for surgery, they were terrified, but glad to be away from the house. Hours had passed since they had gotten here. Mark had yet to return, I was concerned, but the shop owner, John Hickson didn't seem worried about it._

 _"It's fine, when it comes to killing demons, there are none finer that you could hire, unless you found a God willing to do the job for you," said Hickson as he tidied away the medical equipment._

 _"That's an exaggeration," said Mark, walking into the shop, his clothing was singed in places, smoke still trailing from his body, his face was bloody, and his eyes twitched with a profound irritation. There was a stiffness to his movements that showed he was injured. "Bloody demon was possessed by an amalgamated evil in the home, those things take forever to kill. Now heal me Hickson, I have to get to college soon."_

 _"Sure, follow me," they went upstairs._

 _'College?' I thought with surprise, it was the middle of the night. But with time differences, and the shop's ability to appear anywhere, he could be from anywhere. I never saw Mark again, I had hoped to thank him, but to this demon killer, it was probably just another day. What a life for a teenager to live. I pitied him until I saw the state of my home, now I pity myself. We might be moving again, half of the house was gone._

* * *

Dingir awoke with a start, he was on-board an international flight, courtesy of the mages that fawned/observed over Campione. It had been an interesting week, being sent into another world, becoming a God Slayer, meeting two others, along with a proper mage association and the trouble that came a-knocking soon after.

He was now heading to his homeland, not because he missed it, even a parallel version, but because a Heretic God known for its divine sword had made an appearance, and Dingir was looking to increase his sword collection, they were paying him too. When he eventually got to his home world, the Authorities he gained going forward would be valuable against the ultimate foe he needed to face, after all his soul was at stake.

"Only two hours until we reach our destination," came the pilots voice through the speaker system.

"Care for another beverage?" enquired one of the staff, pushing a trolley down the narrow gap between rows of seats.

"A beer, any kind will be fine?"

"Here you go, your highness," she said with a smile, not taking his offered bank note.

'Of course…' he internally sighed, of course they had followed him. Taking a sip of his beer, he sighed, well at least the sixth Campione had honoured his promise, Dingir now wore a fine Italian suit, black with faint pinstripes, a blood red shirt, and black tie with a solid gold tie clip in the shape of the copper black cross group.

Still those Campione and the self proclaimed lover of the seventh had made things very interesting, perhaps he would visit them, as until Yahweh or Lilith found him, he had nothing but time, and he hated being bored.

Heretic Gods would make a welcome change from Devils and monsters.

* * *

 **(CHAPTER END)**

 ** _Next Chapter_**

 _Three Campione in Italy_

* * *

 _A/N:The next chapter will continue directly after the battle with Sigurd._

 _Until Next time._

* * *

 **MY MAIN BOOKS AND COMICS:**

 _Search the titles on Amazon, Lulu, Barnes &Noble, and most major retailers._

 **Grey Faction:** Arrival of the Grey Queen

 **Grey Faction:** Mistaken Apostles

 **Grey Faction Comic:** Jinhai's Justice

 **Grey Faction Comic:** School Wars

 **Detective Michael:** The Scalpel Murder

 **Detective Michael:** Riverside Mystery

 **Detective Michael Comic:** Volume 1

 **Vampire Attack:** Empire of Shadows

 **Vampire Attack:** Shadow Force

 **Secret Yuuki & the Guilty Heart Chronicles:** Dimension Wars

 **Secret Yuuki & the Guilty Heart Chronicles:** Starlight Alliance

 **Nexus Comic:** Volume 1

 **'N' Things Anthology:** Corpses 'N' Things

 **'N' Things Anthology:** Monsters 'N' Things

 _Outside of these books are various anthologies, poetry, and the like I contributed to, as well as collection versions of other books like Scalpel & Hunt, Detective Michael Blue, and Grey Faction colours set._


	4. Three Campione in Italy

_A/N: These stories are indeed to help advertise my own characters, books, and comics, Grey Faction in particular, and it's fun to involve my Dingir character in the many anime, comic, TV, and game crossovers I've done, plus it allows me to try out ideas before they potentially go in the actual published series. One reviewer Rangel enquired about it, but PM's were blocked on their end, so I couldn't reply to them. But in fairness I do mention it a lot in my stories and in my profile. Incidentally if you're interested in buying any of my Grey Faction novels or comics, check out my profile page for the links. :)_

 _Also if you didn't read the bonus chapter, Dingir is 97% human, 2% angel, 1% God, he's not a demi god or anything, so he can become a Campione, unless you really push for the divine ancestor route, and it's a crossover, so let's just go ahead and enjoy the ride._

* * *

 **Dingir the curse of God, and now Campione?**

 _Campione X Grey Faction crossover_

 **Chapter Three: Three Campione in Italy**

* * *

Godou and Erica lay propped up against a partially destroyed wall, breathing heavily, they were utterly exhausted, a single authority had proven as capable as an actual God. He hadn't acquired any new authorities this time, but he had stopped the Dragon King Fafnir with his knight's aid. Dimly he noted the destruction of the city and prayed that the sixth Campione had defeated Sigurd.

"Not the vacation you were hoping for, my King?" sighed Erica, too exhausted to even tease her king by their close proximity

"No joke," Godou chuckled. He could hear sirens in the distance, if mundane help was coming, had the other fight ended as well? "How are you holding up?"

"Barely, thankfully Lord Salvatore was here as well," she said. "Otherwise things wouldn't have worked out as well as it did."

"People probably still died, Erica," Godou replied, but she was right, heretic gods left nothing but destruction in their wake.

"Had Fafnir joined the smaller dragons, there wouldn't be a city left."

"I guess…"

The spotted someone walking towards them among the wreckage.

"Is that him?"

"I hope so."

As the person came closer, they realised it was someone new, but he was carrying a wounded Salvador, who grinned at the two, giving them a thumbs up. The fight was won.

The stranger himself was clearly a warrior of some note, thickly built with muscles like a like a lumberjack, tall and broad, he was covered in scars, his legs in particular were especially bad. But no blood or fresh wounds covered him. He was also, for some reason, in his underwear only. Perhaps he had been attacked by one of the avatars in a state of undress.

"Hey guys, looks like you guys won," noted Salvatore once Dingir had reached them.

"Only just," replied Godou. "You?"

"I totally lost!" the Italian sword master admitted.

"Then how did?" Erica began.

"Who took down Sigurd?" Salvatore continued, he lightly tapped Dingir. "This guy took him down in one blow, it was awesome!"

"That's impossible, no human could defeat a god!" complained the knight.

"He's a Campione like me and Godou, he used two divine blades, one gold, and the other black, his swordplay is amazing too, a bit simplified compared to my greatness, but fine swordplay none the less," the sixth Campione said expansively.

"I simply don't waste my time with form or wasted movement, the purpose of a weapon is to kill your opponent, anything else is unneeded," Dingir replied, gently setting Salvatore down next to Godou, who regarded him with curiosity, as had only met one other Campione so far.

Erica felt a small chill, this new man had a wartime mindset. _To fight is to kill._ _To_ _Kill is to live._ If this man was indeed a Campione then it was best that Godou never fought him. "Are you a new Campione?" she asked.

Dingir considered it. Yes he was, but many of his authorities were based on his own powers in his original world. He had awoken fully to his inherited angelic power during the ten years (Hell time) that he had been tortured by the Devil Aka Manah when he was a child. What to say? "No," he finally said. "I acquired my first power when I was ten years old, but I never announced myself publically, you may call me the eighth if you wish, it doesn't matter to me."

"T-Ten years old!" she exclaimed, the two Campione looked especially stunned.

"Though it was all I had until I was an adult, I have more now." He wouldn't say how many though, as trust aside, he had only called upon two thus far and needed time to understand what had happened, what he had gained, but he could sense three familiar demonic powers within him.

"Man, that's crazy, no wonder you're so strong, you're big time our sempai," laughed Salvatore.

"Stow it," Dingir sighed. "So what about dealing with the aftermath of all this?" but that was directed to the group of mages that approached them. "And why didn't you help the Campione?" Dingir asked as he turned to face them. "Fafnir and Sigurd I understand being too dangerous, but what of his hatchlings that were eating your cities people, as a group you would be strong enough to protect them." He let the accusation hang, they were cowards.

Several looked indignant, but one of the Elders silenced them with a gesture. "You are right of course, those lost lives is a terrible tragedy," he paused, his voice taking a sterner but not out-right challenging tone. "It is the job of Campione to stop Heretic Gods however."

Dingir shook his head in annoyance. Idiots. He wanted to kill them.

'Jeez, he's grumpy with everyone,' thought Salvatore.

Godou was curious about this new Campione, but winced as the half naked God-killer and elderly mage verbally exchanged barbed words, while the other elders looked decidedly nervous.

"We lost knights and mages in the attack, among the corpses you saw were our people, while we have magic, not many of us have combat experience."

 _Tch!_

"I suppose I can't hold you to my standard," Dingir conceded while keeping his features stoic. "But I expect the aid to be swift."

"It will be, we have already sent many of ours into the city, and arranged governmental aid as soon as we saw the battle end, along with emergency services in mass. Don't worry Campione, we know what to do with the aftermath of a god."

"Fine, excuse my rudeness, but it has been a trying day," Dingir still felt they should have involved themselves, they were each about as half as strong or close to that of the blonde girl, no woman he internally corrected, to consider a warrior less than an adult was disrespectful. Additionally Salvatore had told how she had been fighting the great dragon alongside her king. She was a single knight, and they were a group, yet lacking her courage. The Asian teenager was a lucky man, whether he realised it or not, she viewed Dingir as a threat, and subtly drew closer to her King, as he glanced to her out of the corner of his eye.

The Mage sighed, but relaxed, few Campione would apologise or show courtesy.

"So then, your Highness, for what reason do we meet you in your underwear?"

"It's a long story."

* * *

 _(Later that evening)_

Dingir relaxed in a five star hotel that the mages association provided him, called the Copper-Black Cross of all things, hardly a name that inspires fear or mystery, but he was kind enough not to make note of it to them.

He was finally wearing clothing, it was a simple black tee-shirt and jogging bottoms, apparently one of their knights was about the same size as him, they were a bit tight, but not uncomfortable, nothing on the shoes yet, but that was understandable, who made triple wide size 16/50 shoes for mainstream selling after all? Answer: Nobody. In any case, they had hired a team to churn out several outfits for him overnight, as well as socks and footwear in his size.

It seemed that Campione were basically given anything they wanted, he wasn't sure that he liked that, but given he was a dimensional traveller, he would have to rely upon that special treatment for now until his circumstances improved. He had no money, no paperwork, no legal identity, they needed him, feared him, and still he needed them even more.

After getting his clothes tomorrow, he planned to meet with the Campione again. Dingir was curious, in his own world, to slay a Devil or God was practically unheard of. He was the rare exception, a manic avenger that sought to empty Hell, to kill every last one of them, and without his backer, John Hickson, he would never had survived long enough to escape his mortality or even survive his first Devil kill. For a normal human, civilian, warrior, or mage to manage what he could do, was nothing short of miraculous.

Currently the three were being treated in a private hospital that the Copper-Black Cross owned, according the people who accompanied him to the hotel, they would be fine by the next day, Campione apparently healed very fast, and the knight's injuries hadn't been too severe. He had the power of Balmung, so he didn't need it, but it was interesting to know that his body had been passively enhanced and repaired as a result. His scars remained however, perhaps it was because they had been given by a Dark God, Devils, Primordials, and monsters, rather than human inflicted wounds or flaws.

'I have plenty of time to understand all this,' he thought. 'But if I can acquire authorities, what will happen to them when I get home?' If his old powers went back to normal, would the new powers remain the same?

He could sense his changed powers, some were stronger, others weaker, some new, but from beings he had bested in the past. Pandora had granted him quite the boon. After defeating Sigurd, he had acquired a second Gram, it's powers were slightly different, as were their forms, but it was still a fine weapon.

Holding up his hand, he willed the weapon into existence, the aria, the chants of the authority sounded in his mind. _'Born by the legend of a wrathful God, reaching unto the heavens, I devoured the Creator's golden blood, siring endless salvation and punishment, now present the promised victory and ruin that slays even the Seraphim themselves!'_

The golden sword appeared in a flash of golden light, slightly longer than a short sword, a narrow blade in Nordic style, its golden blade was intricately carved with runes and the symbol of the sun. This sword used its divine light to burn, while his original sword dispelled and purified evil. Both could cut at a distance, those differences might prove helpful one day.

Dingir yawned, it was getting late. It had been a crazy day. He would worry about all the craziness tomorrow. He let the divine blade disappear inside him, vanishing in a swirl of scattering gold lights.

As the Eighth Campione drifted to sleep, two heretic Gods headed towards the city, one who would sought to protect Rome from the rule of the God Slayers, and another who sought to invade and conquer this land once again, and to battle both Gods and Campione alike. Tomorrow would be interesting.

* * *

 **CHAPTER END**

 _Next Chapter:_ _ **Horatius Cocles**_

* * *

 _A/N: So who knows their history and where I am going with this?_

 _My Dingir status page will be updated as he acquires new authorities._

* * *

 **STATUS PAGE**

 _ **Name:**_ _Dingir / Mark_

 _ **Nationality:**_ _English (alternate Earth)_

 _ **Authorities gained from the following Heretic Gods:**_

 _Yahweh, Adel, Sigurd, Asag, Aka Manah, and Belial._

 _ **All Authorities:**_

 _ **Purification of Evil** (_ _Capable of purifying evil and demonic)_ _In the name of Adel, let there be light, let all evil be purged and destroyed, Amen!_

 _ **Wings of the Seraphim**_ _(Grows six angelic wings that allow flight and stronger purifying power)_ _Hear no evil, speak no evil, see no evil, six great coverings that ascend the body and know the sky and soar ever onward!_

 _ **Angel's Blessed Body**_ _(a strong and sturdy body that also releases angelic purification - a passive skill)_ _Enduring all evils, knowing the creators love, a light that denies weak mortal flesh and ascends to the legends of the Seraphim!_

 _ **Origin Magic**_ _(Tapping into reality altering power of the one true God, one use per decade)_

 _I am the creator of all things, I birthed all that has existed and all that will ever exist, as such none are my equal or better, the supreme divine light shines high, all thought be mine gift, all reality be mine body, a tenth of a century fed to possibility, let my will be done!_

 _ **Balmung, the curse of God**_ _(A living curse made from Yahweh's hatred, can be used for many things, including as storage, a weapon, and an anchor that denies death, etc...)_ _Peerless life, forever binding from death, invincible, the great sheath, the loving parent, the ultimate wrath of a vengeful God that will slice, cleave and feed upon all under Heaven's skies._

 _ **Gram the Golden sword (1)**_ _(A golden sword once wielded by the hero Sigurd, an ultimate holy sword)_ _Born by the legend of a false immortal, reaching to the heavens, I demand the Creator's light, bringing endless salvation, now cleave and present the promised victory and ruin that slays even the great dragon!_

 _ **Gram the Golden sword (2)**_ _(A Golden sword wielded by the hero Sigmund and later his son Siegfried.)_ _Born by the legend of a wrathful God, reaching unto the heavens, I devoured the Creator's golden blood, siring endless salvation and punishment, now present the promised victory and ruin that slays even the Seraphim themselves!_

 _ **Asag Knight Armour**_ _(using Balmung as a medium, it creates armour that grants great strength, speed, and Asag's evil powers)_ _The curse be thy body, the great enemy will be thine power, wrap in deepest shadows, procreate the greatest poison, Oh rot away lowly ones, the great might consumes all sanity and delivers death!_

 _ **Asag worms**_ _(parasitic worms that can be used to control others, but will cause their bodies to rot, can be used on the recently dead though)_ _That which wriggles, festers, and births in death, demanding obedience, emerge, devour, reign, guide, Obey!_

 _ **Pestilence world**_ _(releases a massive cloud of poison from pores that rots anything nearby or anything you touch)_ _Let mine body be a river of death, that fills the seas, land, and sky, rot, rot, oh rot endlessly, that which birthed from mountains, deliverer of time and the end, rot, rot, oh know the agony that is the world!_

 _ **Pestilence breath**_ _(breath out poison that can cause sleep or rot)_ _Know the word, breath the death, let thy life know its end!_

 _ **Puppetry of Evil**_ _(allows you to control up to ten evil beings at once)_ _There is evil in their hearts oh Lord! Let that be thy focus, swarm, extend, demand, obey! Each finger is thy God, so evil ones, Obey!_

 _ **All consuming Darkness**_ _(engulfs surroundings in darkness, can also rob all senses while within it)_ _Fools! Be denied light! Know not the great five paths to salvation, stumble and fade away, forever lost!_

 _ **Negative Eater**_ _(when surrounded by the pain and negative emotions of others, can feed upon it to recover or grow stronger)_ _Let hate be my lover, let pain and fear be my greatest feast, Oh great shadow of humanity, gather upon the tails of madness!_

 _ **Most of these authorities do not have a limit on how many times they can be used, though several need to used in tandem with the others, particularly Balmung. He doesn't have to chant for most of them, but they get stronger if he does though, like Godou.**_


	5. Horatius Cocles

_A/N: I enjoy researching mythos and ancient history for my books and comics, one of the reasons I liked Fate/Stay Night, Persona 3 -5, and Campione._ _They did it well, they did it with style._

 _Now here's a mythos you might be less aware of, but never the less, enjoy._

* * *

 **Dingir the curse of God, and now Campione?**

 _Campione X Grey Faction crossover_

 **Chapter Four: Horatius Cocles**

* * *

The sun rose majestically over of the green hills, casting away the darkness in favour of a light blue sky. Near Rome was a grand bridge, built to replace the one lost in a battle nearly fifteen hundred years ago. One that gave rise to a hero, a legend, a myth.

On each side of the Sublician bridge stood a Heretic God. One a protector or Rome, the other an invader of Rome. Different periods of history, both known for battle. They stared at each other, one surprised at the presence of another Heretic God. "I came to the birth of my legend to battle the three Campione who dared make my peoples lands their home. I was not expecting you…Attila the Hun."

Attila smiled, his people were known for their light cavalry, they were fast, unpredictable. "One does not expect me, but I do enjoy the irony that on this bridge to Rome, it is the great defender, Horatius Cocles that stands before me. I had hoped to face both Campione and God this day, and it seems I must stand against you first."

The Heretic God stood proudly in his red tipped helm and lamellar scaled armour, a composite bow and quiver on his back, and a divine blade at his hip, one taken from another God, a roman one. Attila slowly drew the weapon with a steely hiss, he was engulfed in red tinted divinity. The sword of Attila, also known as the sword of Mars, the War God.

Only to drop it, and as it stabbed into the ground, the bow had already been drawn and a divine arrow let loose, faster than sound, a construct that embody the Hunnish desire to survive and conquer.

" **Sublic!"** cried out Horatius. A barrier formed of three overlapping shields. The barrier repelled the divine arrow, creating an explosion of concussive force that made the water that separated them, burst upwards like a fountain, raining down upon them and the bridge. Before Attila could say or do anything, the Roman's voice sounded, an aria, the chant of divine manifestation. **"** _ **Against those greater than myself, Lars Porsena, Etruscan, all invaders, I defy your advance!"**_ The three shields appeared again, however they seemed to blot out the sky, made of pure energy this time, they formed a barrier that blocked the bridge from being crossed, and all the river itself as far as the eye could see.

"One of your divine authorities?" Attila noted as he put away his bow and picked up his divine blade. "An impressive fortification, bringing it down with be a great achievement."

"None shall pass into the territory of Rome, especially an invader like you," said Horatius in firm tones.

"Then what of the ancient hero Sigurd and his dragons, did you not awaken to stop them?" asked the Hun. "And what of the God slayers that beat you to it?"

"Indeed, and once I have dealt with you, I shall kill them too," the Roman replied. "But as those three protected Rome from Sigurd, I shall grant them a swift death as thanks."

"Heh! They are our natural enemies, and to man like you, that makes them Rome's enemy by extension it seems, you are a fool, but I admire it, few stick to their convictions like you, they are too quick to speak ill of others words and actions rather than stick by their own." Attila began to walk across the bridge, a slow steady pace.

"Well then, immovable shield of Rome, shall we see what happens in a battle between the likes of us?" Attila was a polite and intelligent man for his time, however he was also cruel and ruthless, to survive the warring tribes and the Empire, as well as keep your warriors in line, you needed to be. He did not mock a strong opponent, he simply crushed them with great power and strategy. Attila's way of showing respect.

"You shall fail, as all do," Horatius replied, divinity engulfing him, he drew the gladius from its sheath, the named blade, **Mulciber** , the weapon he had used to destroy the bridge when all but he had died, to prevent the invaders crossing the bridge. In this other hand, Horatius carried a rectangular shield made of wood and leather, a scutum. He wore the small galea to protect his head, rather than the plumage sporting helmets we are familiar with. He wore sleeveless chainmail and toga, forearms protected by bracers. "But I will allow you to show your might, Attila." He too began to approach. They would meet at its centre.

Each would begin with swordplay. Their divine swords each trilled with excitement as their owners began to chant their arias in unison.

 **"** _ **A lone man and blade thus stand, let craven many fall."**_

" _ **Glory is the act of war, to consume, to conquer, let rivers run as red."**_

They met at the bridge's centre.

Blades moving faster than sight, they collided in a flurry of steel.

Each attack aiming to kill.

'This savage is skilled!'

'For a minor Heretic God, he's skilled!'

With his shield, Horatius deflected the sword of Mars, countering in the brief openings with his gladius or using a shield shove. But the sword of Mars was longer, and Attila was faster so it became a chain of counters, or he merely evaded. They continued their barrage of sword exchanges. Attila suddenly channelled more of his authorities power.

'That shield is an annoyance.'

Attila ducked under the small roman blade, and swung outwards, connecting with the edge of the shield, slicing through it, while sending scutum flying into the river.

"Let's see how you fare without it."

Horatius's eyes widened slightly, but there was a flicker of divinity in his once shield bearing arm, and its place was a pilum, a heavy two handed long spear, typically used for throwing. But a God was stronger than a mortal and could wield it with single battle hardened arm. The pilum's lunge passed by Attila's sword, stabbing hard against the scale-like armour that the Huns favoured. It endured, and the Heretic God Attila was repelled, and sent sprawling to the other side of the bridge, where he started.

'Despite being known as a defensive hero who held back multiple armies with his shield, it seems Horatius's is more skilled with a weapon in each hand…how troublesome.' Attila considered his chances, the conjured shields were a problem, their swordsmanship was at a similar level, and this place with this Heretic God's natural territory.

The Pilum was thrown, Attila conjured a shield himself, but it effortlessly pierced his divine construct, he threw himself to the side and barely avoided it. He no longer remained on the bridge, but the green beyond it. The long spear vanished into golden wisps and reappeared in Horatius's grip. His muscles tensed, ready to throw again.

'I need to create a more ideal circumstance to obtain victory,' Attila conceded.

A temporary retreat.

Othar was needed.

Attila called upon his horse avatar. _ **"My great steed come forth, where you pass no grass shall grow, so bring famine whether we might go."**_ Golden lights gave away to reveal a brown horse, thick limbed and strong, but a squat beast compared to modern race horses.

Horatius paused in his act of the throwing his pilum. Was Attila fleeing?

"Othar, let us go!" Attila leapt onto his horse, who let loose a whinny as it charged away. The grass beneath the horse's hooves withered as it ran. The horse ran unnaturally fast and soon disappeared into the hills and trees in the distance.

'He'll be back, but for now I should recover the strength I used in the fight, the Campione will be coming.' He would be ready for the return of the man his people called, 'Flagellum Dei' or in English, 'Scourge of God.'

* * *

The duel had occurred not long after dawn, by noon the Copper-Black Cross had been made aware of two Heretic Gods fighting nearby. They went to find Dingir first of all. He had just finished trying all the outfits they'd prepared, rather more than he expected. The quality was better than anything he had ever owned, he particularly liked the suits, but had been provided a full range including very casual. A few things needed refitting, but most were perfect. The team of tailors were very skilled.

"Lord Eighth!" called out one of the mages he had met before, entering into the room in a hurry.

"What is it?" Dingir asked.

The mage gestured for the tailors and staff to leave. Once they were gone, he declared to him. "Two Heretic Gods appeared outside of Rome, thankfully the damage has been limited thus far, but we need you and Godou to take care of the matter."

"I take it Salvatore is still injured then?" Dingir asked, casually stripping from his suit.

"No, he is mostly healed but given his recent defeat he wanted a break until he could do some more training, luckily we currently have you two here as well…" he trailed off.

"What?" Dingir asked as he dropped his pants. "…Did you honestly expect me to fight Gods in my nice new suits?"

"…"

* * *

Ultimately Dingir wore a simple black tee-shirt, slacks, and trainers, he wasn't going to waste new clothing if he could help it. He sauntered down massive stairs, ignoring the odd looks he received from the typical billionaire guests, equally puzzled when they recognised one of their nobility fawning about him.

Leaving the hotel, there was a car waiting for them, driven by a maid.

"She will take you and Godou to where the battle took place, we wish you well."

"Hmm…This won't take long," Dingir promised with a smile. Two Campione, two Heretic Gods, a new authority for each of them.

Arianna the maid as she introduced herself was a servant of the blonde knight he had met the day before. She was a sweet little thing that nearly made him soil himself in the ten minutes to the private hospital owned by the Copper-Black Cross. Dingir had never met so reckless a driver as Arianna, she made the journey at breakneck speeds, not stopping once, swerving between cars and crossing green lights, and he himself had a similar complexion.

They collected Godou, it seemed Erica wouldn't be accompanying them, she would need a bit more time before she recovered enough to fight. That didn't stop her trying to accompanying them however.

 _"I'm going with you!"_

 _"Erica its fine, I know your worried about me, but I've got another Campione with me this time. We'll be back soon." They left._

 _Erica sighed, she wished her King had been involved in the magical world for longer before becoming a Campione, as the pleasant rivalry with Salvatore had given her King the wrong impression of the normal relationship between God Slayers. Typically they seized a territory and drove off or killed any Campione that entered. Some went out of their way to kill each other, to see who was the strongest. Sasha Voban was one such example of that._

 _Campione were people who slew Gods, they were cruel rulers who normal mages had to tread on eggshells around them, give them whatever they wanted or risk death or worse. Her King was still naïve, she didn't like him being alone with the dead eyed Campione who had supposedly killed the Heretic God who defeated Salvatore in a single attack._

 _'Be safe, Godou…'_

* * *

 **Next Chapter:**

 _Chapter Five: Attila the Hun_

* * *

 **Heretic God Database:**

 **Horatius Cocles** , Roman hero traditionally of the late 6th century BC but perhaps legendary, who first with two companions and finally alone defended the Sublician bridge (in Rome) against Lars Porsena and the entire Etruscan army, thereby giving the Romans time to cut down the bridge. He then threw himself into the Tiber to swim to the other shore. Versions differ as to whether he reached safety or was drowned. The myth possibly arose in explanation of an ancient statue of a crippled one-eyed man (cocles means "one-eyed") in the nearby Temple of Vulcan. The ancients claimed this represented the wounded Cocles, but it may be a statue of the god Vulcan, who was both lame and traditionally associated with the Cyclops (One-Eyed). The story is first mentioned by the 2nd-century-BC Greek historian Polybius.

 **AUTHORITIES (currently known)**

A barrier that works best when he is outnumbered. Only blocks in one direction. _(Sublic) "_ _Against those greater than myself, Lars Porsena, Etruscan, all invaders, I defy your advance!"_

Can survive death by leaping into water. _(Tiber) "_ _Tiberinus, holy father, I pray thee to receive into thy propitious stream these arms and this thy warrior, and cradle me to life."_

A roman sword that weakens the ground or structures. _(Mulciber) "_ _A lone man and blade thus stand, let craven many fall."_

* * *

 _A/N: The authority status page of Dingir will appear in chapters when he gains a new authority. Same when a new Heretic God appears. I didn't do it with Sigurd though as there's so many versions of the legend, and I like the one best I already did in the Grey Faction trilogy. He's also in my Jinhai's Justice comic, dude's a beast._

 _I had to seriously do some research for this, I sadly don't have an perfect memory._


	6. Attila the Hun

_A/N: Here's the next chapter, I hope you'll enjoy it._

 _Also if there are any Gods in particular you would like to see in this story, let me know, I can't guarantee I'll use them, but I have a few spaces in the story in terms of authorities I want Godou or Dingir to get. The story will mostly focus on Dingir but we'll star our unwilling harem builder Protagonist._

* * *

 **Dingir the curse of God, and now Campione?**

 _Campione X Grey Faction crossover_

 **Chapter Five: Attila the Hun**

* * *

They arrived to see the bridge, surprisingly it hadn't been destroyed by the Gods fighting, but there were signs of combat, in particular the dead grass on one side and the thick amounts of divine magic mixed into the air.

"Guess they aren't here anymore," Godou wondered, looking about as their ride zoomed away to a safe distance.

"No, they're still here, its faint, almost hidden by the residual magic in the air, we're being watched. Don't let your guard down," Dingir replied, drawing Balmung, its hilt bubbling like tar from his wrist as he reached for it. It was a medium length sword, and wider in the middle for the purpose of deflection and more effective cleaving. It was also black as the night itself, with the hilt and guard seamlessly attached and made of the same material.

Dingir didn't need the chant, but still it sung within his mind unbidden, he did not need to verbalise his aria, but he could for extra power. ' _Peerless life, forever binding from death, invincible, the great sheath, the loving parent, the ultimate wrath of a vengeful God that will slice, cleave and feed upon all under Heaven's skies.'_ The weapon bulged and convulsed for a moment, making Godou shiver in sight of the strange weapon. The weapon was mildly sentient, its capacity was infinite, but was mostly instinctual, relying on pulses of emotion for communication.

Godou didn't wish to summon his sword yet as knowing about the God's history made it much more powerful, allowing him to cut that divinity. He did however channel his authority, the Raptor, allowing for superhuman speeds and reactions, though it came with restrictions and penalties. _**"Fear of the winged, both the evil and the powerful, all shall fear I who hold these feathered wings. My wings will bring you curse and just desserts!"**_ By chanting it, he avoided many of the side effects, though it strained his body and caused chest pain to use, but at least he was ready for any sneak attacks.

Dingir noticed the seal of divinity, he gave the lad an approving nod, it was best to be ready. Upon taking their first few steps upon the bridge, there was a sudden spike in divine energy…from above!

Three gigantic shields made of magic began to fall, accompanied by the voice of a Heretic God. _**"**_ _ **Against those greater than myself, Lars Porsena, Etruscan, all invaders, I defy your advance!"**_

"What the Hell?" Dingir muttered in surprise as they leaped forward onto the centre of the bridge, the shields landed, cutting off their escape and access to the city.

"So you have come, Campione…" spoke a young man, dressed in roman armour. He carried a gladius in one hand and a massive spear in the other. "Thank you for defending my city from Sigurd and his dragons," he saluted them briefly, before adding. "But Rome is mine, and I will not let my natural born enemies walk upon its soil any longer. I Horatius Cocles will be your death."

He charged at them both with God speed, Godou leapt aside to avoid the spear, but the Heretic God turned his thrust into an outward sweep that caught the seventh Campione hard with the thick wooden pole and sent him careening into the river.

'Shit, that's cold!' Godou thought, ignoring the sharp pain caused by using the Raptor, he tensed his legs and went under, trying to find something to kick off against.

Dingir narrowly avoided the massive spear, jumping, knees tucked in, only to have to throw himself back, arching himself back in a way a gymnast would be proud to avoid the sword slash that seemingly followed the distraction. He rolled back to take the force out of the fall and rose in a single motion.

"Well dodged," Horatius acknowledged, but paused as his spear fell apart. "So you were aiming for my spear?" he frowned, he could cancel his shield to keep them trapped to strengthen his defensive, but then they might flee like Attila did. He sighed, taking a stance, Dingir did the same. 'For now I'll manage with mine blade and wits…'

 _ **"A lone man and blade thus stand, let craven many fall."**_

The two fearlessly charged into each other, their attacks swift and fierce, the very bridge cracking beneath them in places, though mostly just around Dingir, who found himself stumbling, however he could fight even with his balance disrupted. The named blade Mulciber could weaken the ground or structures, an authority linked to his halting a two-fold invasion by destroying their only route at the time. The delay was enough for reinforcements to arrive and finish the job in another place.

Their swords pushed heavily against each other, trying to overpower the other.

Godou had kicked off from the river and landed back on the bridge, soaked through, breathing a little faster due to being submerged. He watched their masterful sword skill, his subconscious remembering the movements of both for future use. He was new to the blade, and yet still possessed a divine blade from a capable God of War, he needed to be skilled with it beyond it primary power.

"…These guys are amazing."

Watching the fight from a great distance, Attila smiled, while he could easily kill the young Campione, whose back was to him, he dedicated the first of his arrows to the Heretic God who had repelled him earlier that day.

 _ **"That which opens the gates of my legend, fly faster than any wind, oh great scourge!"**_

The arrow could only be blocked by strong magic, no weapon or armour could stop it, faster than the speed of sound, it covered the great distance in a blink of an eye towards the two duelling.

'I could use a second weapon, but why end it too soon,' Dingir though as their contest continued, pleased to see that Godou was watching their fight with great attention, his gaze flicking to the each noticeable mechanic of their movement. He used to do the same, it was easy to learn another's style or find a weakness. He frowned as he felt the slightest hint of another Heretic God. So the fight hadn't ended with a winner? He was about to shout a warning when an arrow pierced through his head with such force, it might as well have been a cannon, almost none of his head remained. "!"

Dingir collapsed in a bloody pile, Balmung returning to him from its sword shape as he died.

Godou hadn't sensed the weapon in time as the arrow passed him, though he felt a chill, knowing it could have been him, the Heretic God Horatius Cocles sensed it at the last possible moment, only able to tilt slightly in the brief instant, and it drilled through the side of his head, removing his right ear, part of his skull and neck, and immediately into the head of Dingir, who hadn't had time to react with his opponent in the way. It took the older Campione right between the eyes, it drilled through his skull before exploding most of his head, leaving only a lower jaw and mangled gore above. He collapsed, his authority vanishing.

"No!" Godou yelled in shock and anger.

The Roman God also collapsed, but two his knees, dropping his sword while holding his hands to his neck, trying to stem the blood flow. But it was pointless, it was a fatal wound.

Attila drew another arrow and fired towards the younger Campione, pleased that he had gotten both of the other two, though the Roman had yet to vanish, so he would be cautious.

 _ **"That which opens the gates of my legend, fly faster than any wind, oh great scourge!"**_

Godou was ready for him this time. The symbol of the white stallion appeared, and from it appeared and immense stallion, the divine beast, charged into the arrow, repelling it with ease, and continuing towards the other God.

 _ **"For Victory, hasten forth before me! O Immortal Sun, I beseech thee to grant radiance to the stallion. O Stallion that moveth godlike with wondrous grace, bringest forth the halo of thy master!"**_

Attila fired another arrow, before replacing it with the sword of Mars, his second arrow did nothing to slow the gigantic white horse fast approaching him. He swung the sword of Mars, the authorities collided, unable to break the godly sword, it propelled him, before exploding in the hills beyond.

 _ **"Protect me Bleda, Protect me Empire of glory, guard strong my greatness, so that I might seek victory!"**_

Attila channelled his defensive Authority, in the form of his scaled armour and was able to protect him, though hit the ground hard, the sheer momentum carrying him through several hills before stopping. The Heretic God vomited blood, more from being pressed by his own shield than the Campione's attack, he hadn't been able to use it fully in time.

Attila stood. He was impressed, he should have killed him first, no that was foolish, he had managed a double kill with the first arrow. Rather than flee, Attila summoned his own great steed to return to the battlefield, he could sense that this young warrior's Authorities had many restrictions, he could no longer sense the Stallion, limited use perhaps?

* * *

Godou fell to his knees, he had strained himself with the White Stallion right after the Raptor, but he didn't know who either of the Heretic Gods were, and Erica wasn't here to provide the information, so that he could use the Warrior and called forth the golden sword that cut through divinity by slicing away their legends and mythos.

"I'm sorry, Dingir-san…" Godou whispered.

"It's fine," Dingir replied, standing behind him, most of his head gone, but still impossibly alive. Godou turned to face him, shock and horror covered his gaze and features.

"How?"

"It's my fault for not dodging," he admitted with what little of a smile was possible. He looked to Horatius, who was surrounded by glittering fragments of golden light, he would be dead soon. "And this one for not giving me a chance to dodge."

 _ **'Peerless life, forever binding from death, invincible, the great sheath, the loving parent, and the ultimate wrath of a vengeful God, so you must stand when you are killed.'**_ A variant of his usual aria, as he only needed to heal. Slowly his head began to regenerate, part of his brain, some visible muscle, it continued.

Black tendrils trashed about where his brain should be. Godou vomited, having not seeing something so grotesque before. Horatius chuckled weakly, he the great hero had become the side act to a lowly Mongol warmonger. "You are truly a monster it seems, Campione, even death does not take you."

"I am aware…Now then…"

Dingir drew this world's Gram upon the Horatius, stopping mere inches from his head. Dingir now had a singular eye, and part of his brain covered with a skull. "You will identify the other Heretic God that killed me, speak now Hero of Rome, or die by a coward's arrow, rather than this divine blade." Offering him death by combat than to the same sneak attack that killed them both. Personally Dingir did not fault someone in such methods, to fight was to seek survival, whatever method was acceptable, however he needed to play to this God's ego.

"Attila the Hun…" Horatius replied, he could feel himself slipping away, it was time to use his greatest authority, one built upon the contradiction within his legend, the two endings, one where he drowned and one where he lived.

"Thank you for telling me," Dingir said, raising his blade, gathering divine power to kill him.

"It's fine, but I do not need your mercy," Horatius stated with confidence. "For I shall not die here!" he tapped the bridge with his sword, creating a hole beneath him, causing his to fall into the river, to be washed away by the current.

 _ **"**_ _ **Tiberinus, holy father, I pray thee to receive into thy propitious stream these arms and this thy warrior, and cradle me to life."**_

'As long as he doesn't come back, I suppose its fine,' Dingir thought, turning back to Godou, who seemed to have recovered, but that might have been that Dingir's head had regenerated completely and no longer resembled a scene from a particularly horrid horror movie.

"How are you…?" Godou began.

"I have an Authority that allows me to heal," Dingir explained, he turned towards the hills, sensing Attila approaching. He pulled Godou closer, "I heard your power 'Warrior' can cut divinity if you know their history, were those old mages right?"

"Yeah…" Godou didn't like where this was going, Erica transferred the knowledge via a very tongue intensive kiss, as it was one of the few ways to inject a Campione with another's magic.

"I'll give you the knowledge you need…"

"No…W-Wait a minute!"

"What?"

"I don't want to be kissed by a man!" he yelled.

Dingir felt he should be offended by that screamed admission, but chose to ignore it.

"Why would I kiss you?"

"Ugh…" Godou realised he'd misunderstood, he was quickly pulled into a headlock by the larger man. "Hey!"

"Now listen close, you've already fought him, if I kill him, the odds of either of us gaining an Authority is low, so be sure to finish it and steal his power from him."

And Dingir explained all he knew of Attila the Hun, while being glad of being an avid student of history, as one who fought Devils since childhood, knowledge of the past, particularly ancient history and mythos of forgotten cultures could be a valuable weapon, though a blessed holy sword was just as good.

* * *

By the time Attila reached them, their surroundings were suddenly filled with golden swords, with another held firmly in Godou's grip. He cursed, drawing his own weapon, he swore again, seeing Dingir still alive. The swords rose, and as one began skewering Attila as Godou deconstructed the man's history and mythos with his words and Authority as a God Slayer, and just like that it was done.

Godou felt a single Authority enter him, it was a sword.

"Well done, Godou." Mark congratulated him. 'Damn… I wanted the sword of Mars…'

* * *

 **Next Chapter:**

 _Chapter Six: The Aftermath and Pandora_

* * *

 **Heretic God Database:**

Attila, also known by the name Flagellum Dei (Latin: "Scourge of God.") King of the Huns from 434 to 453 (ruling jointly with his elder brother Bleda until 445.) Upon murdering his brother in 445, Attila became the 5th century king of the Hunnic Empire, and the sole ruler of the Huns. Attila united the tribes of the Hun kingdom and was said to be a just ruler to his own people. But Attila was also an aggressive and ruthless leader. He was one of the greatest of the barbarian rulers who assailed the Roman Empire, invading the southern Balkan provinces and Greece and then Gaul and Italy. (Died in 453)

 **Othar**  
Attila the Hun's horse, about whom it was said that wherever he passed, the grass did not grow again… Under the Hun leader's saddle, Othar swept through Europe and brought the continent to its feet…

 **AUTHORITIES (currently known)**

Sword of Mars – an unbreakable blade that grants strength in war and uses spilt blood as a weapon. _"Glory is the act of war, to consume, to conquer, let rivers run as red."_

Othar – _"My great steed come forth, where you pass no grass shall grow, so bring famine whether we might go."_

Great bow of the Hun – Fires a single arrow at a time at the speed of sound, can only be dodged or repelled by strong magic, easily pierces armour. _"That which opens the gates of my legend, fly faster than any wind, oh great scourge!"_

Lamellar armour – riding armour, light, strong, scaled, protects from incredible force. _"Protect me Bleda, Protect me Empire of glory, guard strong my greatness, so that I might seek victory!"_

* * *

 _A/N: Hope you enjoyed the newest chapter, don't forget to review this story, and suggest possible mythos or authorities you'd like to see in this story, or just what you thought of this story thus far._

 _Also, my_ _ **Vampire Attack**_ _novella,_ _ **Shadow Force**_ _will be out on amazon and Barnes &Noble in a few weeks, it will come with a manga at the front and character art with each chapter. It's a crossover that has appearances from the __**Zombie Hunters**_ _and you guessed it,_ _ **Dingir**_ _! Shadow Force was originally going to be a game, but it fell through, so I turned my early ideas into a story. You can still play the first game: Vampire Wars - Symphony of Shadows for free, download on amazon now._


	7. Aftermath and Pandora

_A/N: Here's the next chapter, I hope you'll enjoy it._

 _My Vampire Attack: Shadow Force Light novel is going to be out fairly soon. I was planning to have it out by now, but I got a bit stuck on how to end it, so I figured I'd do some writing on this site. This is the third chapter I've finished today, which for me, is crazy fast._

 _Earlier I did a double chapter upload for my Dingir x Final Fantasy 9 crossover, so give it a read, in that one he gets nerfed good, so it's quite a different read to this. (_ _ **A nerfed Dingir in Final Fantasy 9, seriously?**_ _)_

 _And finally some of you were not happy about the quick ending of Attila, I was planning to go into detail in this chapter, and I'll be doing it as a dream/flashback, mostly just to spam some of my research on the Heretic Gods. Enjoy._

* * *

 **Dingir the curse of God, and now Campione?**

 _Campione X Grey Faction crossover_

 **Chapter Six: The Aftermath and Pandora**

* * *

 _ **(Dream Sequence)**_

 _"Attila the Hun, you are also known as the Flagellum Dei by the Romans, the scourge of God!" Godou declared, as the field of golden swords stretched out to meet the Heretic God. Dingir, watched from a distance, ready to interfere if needed, but he doubted it would be necessary._

 _"You were known as the ruler of the Hunnic Empire in the fifth century, however you ruled much of that time jointly with your brother Bleda. However you are not only a king, but a traitor, for you slew your brother once your kingdom was firmly under your control!" he continued, pouring knowledge of the Heretic God's mythos/legend into the golden blades, which rose into the air and began to attack him. He narrowly repelled them with the sword of Mars._

 _"You were just to your own, but cruel to others, the greatest of barbarian rulers, feared by the great Empires, invader of the Balkans, Greece, Gaul, and Italy, but you were not a man but a force, riding Othar, the cursed horse that ruined the life beneath its hooves, wielding a blade stolen from the Roman God of War, but you died not from age or battle…"_

 _Several of the Golden blades pierced him._

 _"Be silent!" Attila yelled in anger._

 _"Your legend ended pathetically, while in the midst of revelry, you suffered a nosebleed and drowned in your own blood, a drunkards death, a fools death!" Godou continued._

 _More Golden blades pierced him, Attila charged, ignoring the injuries._

 _"So finally, know a death that is not humiliation, fall in battle, King of Huns, and be satisfied with your ending!" Godou charged to meet Attila, the golden sword in his had complete, and with a show of skill from his baseball days, he threw the sword, piercing Attila through the head, cutting through his divinity._

 _And just like that, it was done._

 _One Heretic God had fled, almost dead._

 _Another slain, Godou felt the power of another divine sword enter his core of power, it was at its strongest in war or surrounded in blood. It was a weapon of horrors, but a weapon that could turn the tables in the worst situations._

 _Godou collapsed soon after, to be caught by Dingir._

 _"Good job kid," he said. Internally he lamented not acquiring the sword that was one of the sources of his name._

 _ **(Dream sequence ended.)**_

* * *

Godou awoke to find himself in Erica's enormous bed, she was curled up next to him in one of her very revealing nightwear, he forced back the blush and looked away. 'So we made it back okay…' he thought. After Dingir had carried him off to look for the car, he must have passed out.

"Really Godou, am I so unappealing that you must look away?" Erica asked with a sultry smirk, who had been feigning sleep to cuddle with the man she had fallen for. He spotted a hint of uncertainty in her expression, before she expertly hid it.

Godou frowned, before trying allay her negative emotions, as manipulative and physically invasive as she was, Erica was his only ally right now in the strange new world of magic revealed to him. "Not at all, but it might be awkward if…" he paused.

Erica's eyes flickered down, below his waist. A faint, mocking smile showed with a predatory edge. "Ara, so it seems you find me some beautiful, you must look away or risk a great stirring in your loins?"

"Could you not do that, it's too much!" Godou complained, moving to get out the bed, his face flaming. Only for Erica to wrap her arms around his waist, halting him.

"Then how much is enough, Godou?" she asked, her voice soft, almost pleading. "You know how I feel about you, what must I do for you to regard me as more than a nuisance?"

That caught Godou off-guard. The main problem was that he didn't trust the mages that sent her in the first place, that this wasn't just some seduction mission, her interest in him had sprung up rather suddenly after all, even if the circumstances had been rather unique.

"If you want me to restrain myself, I will," she declared. "I have to flirt and tease because you don't pay me any attention otherwise, even if you push me away once you've noticed my actions."

Godou was silent, it seemed she was serious.

"There is an order to things," he said, trying to speak with more confidence than he felt. "People need to get to know each other, hang out, dates…you know stuff like that, all this declaring yourself my lover, especially when…"

"When you've never been in a romantic relationship," Erica finished, her arms now draped around his shoulders, their faces next to each other. "I apologise, I've been too forward with you…I guess things are different in Japan. In Italy you must be passionate and driven to show your love for another. If you wish, we can take this slower, but please consider me as more than a nuisance, my feelings for you are genuine." She placed a soft kiss on his cheek, it was brief, but it got his heart racing.

"E-Erica!" he panicked slightly.

"It's okay, I'm not going to suddenly ravish you, as much as I'd like to," Erica replied, letting him go, and disappearing back beneath her covers, her back to him. "…Feeling like this, is a first for me, we're both bound to make mistakes," she mumbled, despite her immense confidence, she had never been in a romantic relationship either, they stood on even ground.

Godou felt some of his suspicion fade, cultural differences aside, they were both new to this kind of thing, he positively refused to use the 'V' word. "Ano…" he hesitated. "Do you maybe want to go on a date somewhere tomorrow?"

"I'd like that," she replied quietly, while internally celebrating. Earnestness with a little restraint, seemed to work well on the shy King, she'd hold back for now until he got more used to the idea, but her passions for him could not be restrained for too long. But still little though it was, it was a victory.

* * *

 _ **(Scene change: The realm of Pandora)**_

Pandora was surprised as Dingir suddenly projected himself into her world, truly his mind and soul was unique after all, inhuman, having nothing to do with becoming a Campione, she hid her thoughts behind an endearing smile. "So, what brings you here, my son?"

Dingir chose to not comment on the 'son' thing, remembering that Campione were effectively adopted when they were reborn as God Slayers. "I wish to confirm something, Lady Pandora."

"And that is?" she prompted.

"These Authorities, what will happen to my powers you changed, and what authorities I gain from this point once I find a way back to my original world?"

'So he means to return…' That was disappointing, but the only person with the power in 'this' world was another Campione, one who was never in the present for long, jumping through dimensions and history, but she would not reveal this information, he would have to find it. Hopefully it would take him long enough so that he encountered 'that' Heretic God, the one who had come from his world, one that might be their end if left unchecked.

Pandora then answered his question, "The powers you brought with you shall return to their original form, but your body will remain that of a Campione and shall not suffer the strain as you did originally, as for those Authorities you acquired after coming to this world, that depends, in a world that is not rich with mana like yours, they would need to be Authorities that you can bind especially tight to yourself, something you share an infinity for, something you can fuel by your own power. Divine beasts would be no good for example, but that sword you took from Sigurd, that would work in your world."

"What are my affinities, Lady Pandora?" Dingir asked, inwardly thrilled that divine swords were usable in his world. He collected weapons with a passion, not just for his love of weapons, but because a need when fighting Devils. Now that he had acquired the Gram and Balmung, it wasn't as important as before, but he stored many mundane weapons filled with angelic or demonic power, which he now sealed within the infinite depths of Balmung, which in turn lived within him. He carried his armoury. But if he could steal divine weapons, they would be very helpful against some of the enemies in his dimension. Until he killed every devil and demon, he wouldn't be satisfied.

"Purification and bladed weapons," she answered. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

"I had an inkling, but your conformation is appreciated," Dingir replied with a warm smile. "Until Lilith or Yahweh finds me, or even if I find some method myself to get back, I shall increase my armoury with divine weapons. That shouldn't be a problem, yes?"

"You may use them in your world, however you'd better not ignore a Heretic God just because it doesn't have a sword for you!" the goddess warned him.

"No promises," he replied in jest, his form disappearing as his consciousness returned to his body. "See you around."

"Until next time," she replied after he had left.

'Please let these two new Campione be enough to change the fate of this world.'

 **"He will, that rebellious child is one of my descendants after all,"** spoke a great voice, startling her, it had no words, but the meaning was conveyed through the pulsing melody that surrounded the God that now trespassed on her realm, it took the form of a vast sphere of light. **"If there is one thing you can trust Mark in, it is to kill the enemy."**

"Good," Pandora replied, "However…"

 **"Yes?"**

"You could take him back right now if you wished, why haven't you?"

 **"I also would like to see the Dark God that escaped to your world from mine to be dealt with. You may have him until then,"** and then just like with Dingir, the God of the bible vanished, though moving through dimensions and time with an ease that Dingir could never manage.

* * *

 **CHAPTER END**

* * *

 _ **Next Chapter:**_

 _Rumours of a Great Knight_

* * *

 _A/N: I hope that you enjoyed the newest chapter. Stay tuned for the next._

 _And as always, if you can, check out my official Dingirverse books and comics._

 **MY MAIN BOOKS AND COMICS:**

 _Search the titles on Amazon, Lulu, Barnes &Noble, and most major online retailers…and then preferably buy some, available in Kindle/EBook, and Paperback._

 **Grey Faction:** Arrival of the Grey Queen

 **Grey Faction:** Mistaken Apostles

 **Grey Faction Comic:** Jinhai's Justice

 **Grey Faction Comic:** School Wars

 **Detective Michael:** The Scalpel Murder

 **Detective Michael:** Riverside Mystery

 **Detective Michael Comic:** Volume 1

 **Vampire Attack:** Empire of Shadows

 **Vampire Attack:** Shadow Force _(coming soon)_

 **Secret Yuuki & the Guilty Heart Chronicles:** Dimension Wars

 **Secret Yuuki & the Guilty Heart Chronicles:** Starlight Alliance

 **Nexus Comic:** Volume 1

 **'N' Things Anthology:** Corpses 'N' Things

 **'N' Things Anthology:** Monsters 'N' Things


	8. Bonus: Saving Vampires, not likely!

_A/N: Here's another bonus/dream sequenced chapter, however it does have a few paragraphs tied into the next chapter. (A continuation of the last bonus chapter.)_

* * *

 **Dingir the curse of God, and now Campione?**

 _Campione X Grey Faction crossover_

 **Bonus Chapter: Saving Vampires? Not likely!**

* * *

Mark tossed and turned in his bed as his sub-consciousness drew him into nightmares once again, or rather the monster filled memories of his past. It was a frequent occurrence, he didn't dream of sex or random things, it was always monsters, demons, and devils, if not his torture at the hands of Aka Manah, than the missions (he refused to kill them adventures) of his younger years. While he liked to think he was mostly over his traumas, he didn't want to remember, so he slept as little as possible, only indulging in times of deep exhaustion.

* * *

 _ **(Dream Sequence)**_

 _Kimberlain and the Zombie Hunters waited outside the surgery for close to an hour. Why a general store needed such a thing, she didn't know. A family left soon after they arrived, a mother, father, and three children, they all looked tired, but a sense of relief was clear on their faces._

 _"Why are you young ladies here?" asked the father._

 _"We could ask the same of you," Amy retorted._

 _That made the father chuckle. "Mister Hickson was just patching us up after a monster attacked us, we're lucky Dingir was there to kill it."_

 _"So Dingir is here?" Amy asked._

 _"Yes, he's with Hickson now, are you here for his help too?" he asked._

 _"Yes," she admitted, though not willing to discuss why._

 _"Then you'll be just fine, we'll if you'll excuse us, we've had quite the day. I wish you luck with whatever's troubling you."_

 _"Dingir's all cool and glowy!" giggled one the daughters, as they left._

 _"Cool and glowy?" Alice snorted. "I can't wait to mention that."_

 _"Please don't," insisted a deep, but young voice nearby. They turned to see the towering form of Mark, nicknamed Dingir by the Devils that both admired and hated him. "I got enough from Hickson earlier when the kids were praising me."_

 _Dingir stood a little over six feet tall, with black hair and grey eyes, which were surrounded with the black colouration of one who seldom slept, he was thickly built, and wore a long leather coat that had several large gashes and burns in the leather, they noticed bandages beneath his half unbuttoned shirt. "Mozella, Amy, Alice, what do the zombie hunters want with me?"_

 _"Not us," Mozella replied. "Kimberlain here wants to hire you to rescue someone." She gestured to the pinkette vampiress, who had gone decidedly pale and quiet, as most lesser demons did in his presence. Which wasn't surprising, as only devils had a chance of defeating him. A mere demon was a insect._

 _"I don't help demons," Dingir replied coldly, dismissing them. "I kill demons."_

 _"Hey, wait!"_

 _"Considering that I'm the boss, I think we should hear them out first," said a new voice. It was John Hickson, the immortal owner of the shop. He was covered in incredibly detailed tattoos that resembled spellcraft combined with circuitry, they glowed faintly with a blue light. "If fellow hunters are with her, vampire or not, it might just be something serious, isn't that right, Mark?"_

 _"Tch!" he grunted in irritation. Dingir needed Hickson to hunt more devils and demons, as well as heal him with magic, and the immortal used that maliciously to keep him in line._

 _"Excellent!" he declared. "Now ladies, follow me to my office and we'll discuss this rescue mission."_

* * *

 _'What the hell is this guy?' Kimberlain thought as the shop owner brought them tea as they took a seat in one of several couches crammed into the small room. Her eyes flickering to Dingir, who skulked in the corner, looking almost petulant. A strange aura radiated from him, she couldn't see it, but she could sense it, Kimberlain didn't know why, but it reminded her of the blessed weapons they sometimes used, or holy water. Something that hurt demons, and hurt her. The aura also had a predatory edge to it, and her vampiric senses screamed for her to leave, even if he was ignoring her._

 _"It's okay," Alice whispered, seeing Kimberlain's nervousness, and resting a reassuring hand on hers. "You're just sensing his purifying power, as long as he doesn't touch you, it can't hurt you."_

 _"We won't let him either," Amy added. "Sorry, we should have mentioned that he doesn't like demons."_

 _"Yeah," agreed Hickson taking a seat behind his desk, which was piled with scrolls, Grimoires, and several porn magazines, which he casually slid to the side. "I do not discriminate, but my grumpy friend is a little…Well anyway, why do you need us?"_

 _The zombie hunters nudged Kimberlain._

 _"I'm want to hire you to help me rescue my family from the Dark Earl," Kimberlain said in response to their prompting._

 _"The Dark Earl?" Dingir asked, curious, he hadn't heard that name before._

 _"It's a persona that the Dark God,_ _ **Nyarlathotep**_ _has taken to wearing," Hickson explained. "A hundred or so years ago, the Dark Earl, then called the Shadow Master, nearly destroyed the world. The Vladamir clan's leader, and two servants, including Kimberlain here, were able to send him back into the void, at least until recently."_

 _"So the other two are the ones that you want me to rescue?" Dingir asked Kimberlain. If they were screwing over something evil, he didn't mind helping as much._

 _"Yes," she replied, nervously. Hickson, as well as the zombie hunters gave the young man a meaningful look. Apologize. Now._

 _Dingir sighed deeply. "Oh, for pity's sake, I'm sorry if I was rude earlier, or my aura scares you, but I can't turn it off, I'm basically a 24/7 bottle of holy water. Please just act as normal, I'm not going to hurt you."_

 _Kimberlain regarded him for a while. "Okay then, that's better. But don't be mean." Dingir's eye twitched in response._

 _Kimberlain went on to explain what she had learnt from Matos over the phone, about the bombing of the Council, the slaughter of the Vladimir clan home in Germany, and Countess Vladimir, along with Frederick, being kidnapped by the Dark Earl._

 _"The Dark Earl has an army of zombies, vampires, trolls, werewolves, and unknown horrors, even human soldiers, and sooner or later, he'll threaten the human world again, and it'll be too late then to stop him."_

 _"I thought you wanted a rescue mission, a God isn't an enemy I can hope to kill," Mark stated. A devil was hard enough._

 _"True," interjected Mozella. "But if an opening presents itself, we should take it."_

 _"We?" Dingir snorted. "I was under the impression you wanted me to do it because you couldn't handle it."_

 _"We won't throw our lives away, but that doesn't mean we can't help," Mozella snapped back, volunteering them, despite her earlier words. She realised that, adding, "long range support, that sort of thing."_

 _"Never the less it won't work," he retorted. "We'd be lucky to escape with our lives."_

 _"He's right," Hickson interjected. "But we could fill their base with explosives, Bloody Mary their sprinkler systems, and put a dent in his forces during the rescue." Bloody Mary referred to Dingir adding his blood to a sprinkler system or other water transport method. Dingir's blood, which was a deadly poison to demons, would melt anything demonic or monstrous that it touched better than holy water ever could._

 _"We'd need more people," Mozella stated._

 _"What about that Matos guy you mentioned, and any survivors from your clan, he said there was some, right?" Amy suggested._

 _"I'm sure they'd help."_

 _"Good," smiled Hickson. "But we need to join forces with them, arm them, plan our mission in detail, and of course, we actually need to know where the enemy is based, and if that is where the Dark Earl is keeping them."_

 _"He will," Kimberlain assured them. "If it's the same guy as last time, he'll not want to risk them escaping. We were the ones who beat him last time."_

 _"But that's not the most important point," Hickson added._

 _"Huh?"_

 _"Money," Dingir muttered._

 _"Indeed," Hickson agreed. "So let's draft up an estimate of costs and wages, plus a multiplier because you need to get the money post-mission from the Countess, and then I'll look into finding your allies, and maybe, the Dark Earl too."_

* * *

 _Matos and Veronica had survived the Dark Earl's brutal attacks, barely, but their being a werewolf and vampire respectively afforded them far greater vitality and healing ability than a normal human. Even so, if not for some of Matos's subordinates coming when they and the Countess didn't arrive, they probably wouldn't have made it. Veronica's hole closed up in a few days after drinking a lot of blood, he however was bed-bound for nearly a week._

 _The Zynox company that had flown them here before, collected them after they had recovered enough to travel, along with a small force of his werewolves._

 _There was an underground compound that was being fitted for their use. It was heavily fortified, as it had once been used for less than legal operations before the property had changed owners. In addition, especially to Veronica's delight, their clan's home, which had been obliterated by human soldiers working under the Dark Earl, had not been totally successful in wiping them out. Thirty-one vampires had apparently survived the attack, thanks to the efforts of the Illuminate special responses division, and Zyrox had been able to contact them in their remote hiding space and transport the survivors to the compound._

 _The reunion occurred a few days after that. It was a both wonderful and horrible, as they saw who had survived, they too also knew who had died. Zervio had been amoung the dead. A terrible loss for them all._

 _"He saved me," Nostrum told Veronica in a quiet voice. "The time he brought us was…" he paused, "well he died like a true warrior should."_

 _"But such a thing to happen to us, it is unacceptable, the Dark Earl even took the Countess, but I promise you, we will avenge this loss," Veronica declared._

 _"I would think saving your blood kin would be a higher priority for you," said an unfamiliar voice, deep but young, with a faint hint of distaste._

 _A sudden chill ran down both their backs, as the sensation of being locked in with a starving predator hit them. They turned to face the speaker, Nostrum bared his fangs, while Veronica drew the small pistol hidden beneath her clothing. The speaker was a young man, dark haired and grey eyed, perhaps a little out of his teenage years. He was dressed in a black tracksuit, which bore several subtle bulges of one who hides weapons on their person._

 _"Who the hell are you?" Nostrum demanded, not recognising the kid, he had a strange scent, it was human mostly, but there was a hint of something inhuman, that made him feel ill, along with the faint scent of blood, not human blood, but demon blood. This person had killed recently. He carried himself like a martial artist, even in the relaxed, seemingly indifferent stance he took._

 _"You are not with the humans that accompanied the others," Veronica stated, gesturing with her gun for emphasis. "Answer my kin's question."_

 _The young man smiled, a surprisingly unsettling action. "Dingir, I've been hired to come here," he said. They both froze at the name. It was a very ancient term that meant both God and angel, it was also the alias of the strongest exorcist in the world, he worked for the Demon Workshop supposedly, but had also done work for the Vatican, a group that while signing the peace treaty, wouldn't hesitate to destroy their kind either._

 _For what reason was he here? Then to their great surprise, they saw Kimberlain, the little pinkette vampire slap that very Dingir around the back of the head, and with her vampiric strength, she ended up face-palming him into the concrete._

 _"What?!"_

 _"Kimberlain?"_

 _"Dingir, you promised to be good, don't be misleading to antagonise my friends, okay?" Kimberlain complained._

 _"Noted," Mark grunted, standing in one smooth motion, calm, collected, as though he hadn't just been floored, it was spoiled somewhat by the bloody nose he now sported._

 _Normally vampires had trouble restraining themselves around freshly spilt blood, but the inhuman, but not demonic scent seem to grow stronger, it was most unappetising. "Good thing I wore gloves," Kimberlain grimaced, removing the one she'd hit him with, it was steaming as though burnt, and a faint red rash showed on the skin beneath, Kimberlain focused the little demonic power she had to heal it._

 _"I did warn you," Dingir replied, wiping his nose clean with the sleeve of his jogging suit, fortunately it was black. He regarded the two vampires, keeping his features stoic, it actually made him more intimidating, but not outright aggressive as before. "I have been hired, but to aid in the rescue of your mistress and her pet. The boss insisted."_

 _"Bum boy isn't a pet, he's one of us," Kimberlain chided, more relaxed around him in the journey to Canada. Hickson didn't want to get directly involved with the likes of the Earl, but had prepared a plan for them to work with, unlike them, he had to worry about being on an Evil God's bad side…forever._

 _'I'm not even going to comment on that,' Dingir thought when he heard the vampire's nickname for Frederick. He turned away, heading for the nearest door. "We have to plan our rescue mission with the others," he said to them as he left. "Come." He left without checking to see if they followed, his bearing demanding obedience._

 _Exchanging looks, they followed Dingir, despite him being only a teenager, a mere infant compared to their long life spans. After all, revenge aside, they still wanted to save Frederick and the Countess._

 ** _(Dream ends)_**

* * *

Mark opened bleary eyes, a snippet from an old tale, from about twelve years ago, if he remembered rightly, he smiled wrly at the thought. Helping demons, he could count on a single hand the number of times he had been forced the fight alongside non-humans to defeat a far worse foe. It had showed him that demons were not the monsters he liked to think, after all they were half devil and half human. Such emotions however were a weakness, it was his goal to eradicate all demons that lived on Earth, and every Devil, in all versions of reality. And now as one who was un-killable, his goal was now actually possible.

Dawn dimly peeked through the curtains of the lavish hotel room they had given him.

"I might as well get up…" Dingir sighed, yawning. He would be meeting the mage association to give a report on the incident at the bridge, and perhaps to hammer out a relationship in which benefited them and he the eighth Campione alike.

* * *

 **CHAPTER END**

 _ **Next Chapter:**_

 _Rumours of a Great Knight_

* * *

 _As always, please check out my official Dingirverse books and comics._

 **MY MAIN BOOKS AND COMICS:**

 _Search the titles on Amazon, Lulu, Barnes &Noble, and most major online retailers…and then preferably buy some, available in Kindle/EBook, and Paperback._

 **Grey Faction:** Arrival of the Grey Queen

 **Grey Faction:** Mistaken Apostles

 **Grey Faction Comic:** Jinhai's Justice

 **Grey Faction Comic:** School Wars

 **Detective Michael:** The Scalpel Murder

 **Detective Michael:** Riverside Mystery

 **Detective Michael Comic:** Volume 1

 **Vampire Attack:** Empire of Shadows

 **Vampire Attack:** Shadow Force _(coming soon)_

 **Secret Yuuki & the Guilty Heart Chronicles:** Dimension Wars

 **Secret Yuuki & the Guilty Heart Chronicles:** Starlight Alliance

 **Nexus Comic:** Volume 1

 **'N' Things Anthology:** Corpses 'N' Things

 **'N' Things Anthology:** Monsters 'N' Things


	9. LN preview: A bullet, not truck-kun

_A/N: Sorry I haven't been uploading recently, but I've had police and family stuff to deal with lately._

 _SUPER STRESSED!_

 _In the meantime however, please enjoy a preview from one of the two light novels I'm writing based on ideas I got after writing my Dingir x FF9 fanfiction, though this one goes in a different direction._

 _I am making this story available for free on this site (for now) as I upload chapter by chapter, volumes on amazon, barnes &noble to follow when I can afford cover artwork. Click on my profile to find this story. (Four chapters currently uploaded.)_

 _Maybe I'll try a kickstarter or something?_

 _What do you think?_

 _Anyway, enjoy._

* * *

 **Another world Hero: who summoned an author to save the world?**

 **Preview: A stray bullet, not truck-kun**

 _'You've got to be kidding me!'_

 _(slowing heartbeat)_

 _'After everything that's happened...'_

 _(coughing blood)_

 _'I get killed like this!'_

 _(slowing heartbeat)_

The author stares up the ceiling of the bookstore, panicked fans and staff surrounding him, one was trying to apply pressure to the gushing wound in his chest, while another called for an ambulance. But they wouldn't make it time, he could tell. He couldn't even feel the pain anymore, his entire body had gone numb. With desperate effort, he lifted a blood soaked hand, regarding it, as his sight began to darken.

 _'I finally succeed in my dream...and I get killed...by a stray bullet?'_

A robbery had occurred nearby, the criminals and police had started shooting at each other, and as they fled to the back of the store to safety, a single ricocheting bullet hit the author right through his heart and lung, heavily damaging the life sustaining organs.

 _(the heart stopped beating)_

 _(a pained gasp)_

The author's eyes began to close, only darkness surrounding him. A single angry thought echoed in his mind _. 'What kind of sick joke is this, what kind of God would let me die like this?'_

 _(He died)_

* * *

 **Scene change: White void**

The author awoke, he was floating in a seemingly endless white void.

"Huh, so there is something after death," he remarked with mild surprise, regarding his surroundings, or rather lack of. "No women, booze, or television...well this is going to suck."

"Well, I don't know about that," said an amused voice behind him, whispered into his ear.

The author heavily elbowed the person in the nose on instinct, turning he batted aside their flailing arms, and readied a punch, while grabbing him by front of his robes with his other arm.

"Please wait!" yelled the stranger in fear, making the author pause. "I mean you no harm."

The stranger was a man in his later years, wearing a brilliantly white robe, and an impossibly well manicured beard, he also had a golden halo hovering above his head.

"So who are you?" the author asked, his features irritated. "And if you say God, I'm going to hit you again."

The stranger began to laugh awkwardly, and refused to answer.

"Seriously?"

"Yep!" The stranger, now known as God replied. "Welcome to the wheel of reincarnation, normally an angel would handle this, but seeing as you weren't meant to die, I figured I would handle your situation myself."

A vein pulsed dangerously on the author's head, his gripped tightened, making God "Eeep!" in distress.

"Care to explain that, I feel some personal responsibility coming from your direction, what was meant to happen, huh?"

God sweat dropped, regretting not sending an angel. "The stray bullet was meant to kill one of your fans, they were destined to become a vile killer in a few years, so we decided to sort things out early, as Hell is getting overly full, but then the bullet just missed that person and got you instead...Sorry about that."

The author promptly head butted God.

"You kill me, ruin my life, take me away from my family, and you say...Sorry about that?!"

"Ouch!" complained God, "on the plus side, when you were dying, the person who was supposed to die tried to stop the bleeding, it traumatised them when you died, and now they're a doctor, so well done," God said with a cheesy grin and a thumbs up.

"That's...It takes years, if not decades to become a Doctor," a sudden sense of dread of hit him. "How long have I been dead?" he asked.

"Hmm? About fifteen years, I'd say?" mused God. "Time is rather different here after all."

The author slumped forward in defeat, letting go of God, who sighed in relief. _'I'm dead anyway, so I suppose it doesn't matter.'_

God took a dramatic pose, hearing the man's thoughts, he replied. "It does matter, because we ruined your life and you saved a soul destined for evil, I as the God of this world, I owe you a favour, so how about being reincarnated in another world?" he asked. "We've been doing a lot of that lately, and it seems to work out well, though Truck-kun has been overworking lately...I think he just likes running over Japanese people."

"There's no way I'm being reincarnated," rejected the author. "I refuse to have a second childhood, and I'm not Japanese."

"You're so hard to please!" complained God. "Fine, I'll send you as you are into another world, I'll even give you a blessing, as that world is full of magic and monsters, something to help you out, so what would you like?"

'It's not like I have any better options,' mused the author, the alternative was to stay in this place, or go wherever it was dead people went. "What kind of power?" he asked. "Wait, I actually get to choose?"

"Sure, though there are limits of course, but feel free to be creative," replied God. This part was always fun, some chose some very interesting powers, a recent world traveller had wanted magically powered technology, they really didn't want to let go of the internet.

The author didn't need any consideration on the subject of what power or blessing to choose. "Look into my mind, and see the weapon I created in my Grey Faction series: Balmung. Just give me that."

 _'Balmung?'_ thought God, thinking of the legendary weapon wielded by Siegfried/Sigurd, also known as the Gram, depending on which saga you referenced, the actual origin of that legend was almost as old as the epic of Gilgamesh. God place a hand on the author's head and began reading his mind, he was surprised by the twisted, almost maddened nature of it, yet controlled by a far more ruthless practicality. This human would make an interesting, albeit terrifying world traveller.

God viewed the thousands of thoughts on the custom Balmung's history, form, power, and meaning. It was a tremendous legend in the making, but it was possible to make such a blessing, though he would need to limit it in a few small ways, a living weapon that was one with its host, capable of changing shape and storing limitless power, and using it against new foes. Hundreds of other minor aspects spun together into its legend and myriad of abilities and utilizations. In the saga of the young man's creation, it had devoured countless demons and Gods. He would make this Balmung, but it would be empty, he would have to fill it and grow it with his own efforts.

"Well?" the author asked, the man's features stoic, but a subtle hint of hope, a childish desire built of one who creates. God could understand this, he was much the same.

"It's doable," God replied, "but it won't have demonic power stored inside it, you must feed Balmung yourself," he held out his hand, and a mass of darkness swirled into existence, a predatory killing intent subtly leaked from it. "Here."

The man grinned, something he had created in fiction had been brought to real life. "Heh Heh," he chuckled, and without hesitation he stuck his hand into the mass of darkness. "Come, Balmung," it was spoken softly, but it was clearly an order, and Balmung responded, with a ghastly shriek as it burrowed beneath his skin. The author screamed as invasive agony invaded his body, he fell to one knee, breathing heavily. It was inside of him.

* * *

 **Acquired: (Blessing) Balmung Custom**

* * *

A synthetic voice sounded in his mind, accompanied by a game-like chime.

 _'What the Hell?'_ he thought. Was God ripping ideas right out of manga and light novels?

God began to glow, radiating a power that reflected his position, the author stood before the deity with wide eyes, which faded to be replaced by a grin and a competitive gleam in his eyes. "Next time we meet, I'll be more powerful than you," he wasn't sure why he said it. But it felt right. To be able change a world or circumvent death.

God laughed. "That power is a destroyer, but try and become a creator in this new world if you wish."

Light engulfed the world traveller's senses, it was beginning.

"So what should I call you now?" God asked. "Dingir?" making reference to the wielder of Balmung within the books, one based on the author himself.

"No, I am not so grand yet," he replied. He considered it, he had died in Japan, so why not? translating his name into Japanese, he answered. "For now, call me Midori."

"What a cute name for such a scary looking man," God laughed, and before the now named 'Midori' could retort, the bright lights whisked him away to another world. At that exact moment, a bus of school kids crashed and fell to their deaths, and an old king summoned his kingdom's heroes.

* * *

 **Scene change: Another world**

Midori suddenly found himself in a gigantic throne room, filled with bright colours, gold, and the many nobles and royalty watching me with glee and awe. He looked down, a summoning circle still glittered on the red floor. He had been summoned it seemed, but he wasn't alone. Around him were at least a dozen teenagers, all short, skinny brats, Japanese by their features, but they had ridiculously bright hair colour and eyes, and clearly they were surprised by it as well, before they noticed where they were.

"Welcome to the Kingdom of Finas, brave heroes!" announced a man in royal garb, his crown and fingers packed with gold and jewels. "We have summoned you to save our kingdom!"

'Oh fuck this!' thought Midori.

 **\- Preview End -**


	10. rumours of a great knight

_A/N: Hey guys, it's been a while, but I lost a load of data when my laptop died, plus my health has been really crap, so I've been otherwise occupied. Also heads up! I brought out an Overlord crossover recently if you want to check it out. Now enjoy this long overdue chapter._

* * *

 **Dingir the curse of God, and now Campione?**

 _Campione X Grey Faction crossover_

* * *

 **Chapter Seven: rumours of a great knight**

* * *

The mages of the Copper Black Cross contacted Dingir shortly after returning with an unconscious Godou, they had another mission for him.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice, Dingir-signor," said a handsome, blonde man in his middle years when Dingir was escorted into a nobleman's office, elegantly dressed in the way only nobles were. Dingir was glad he hadn't dressed casually.

"It's fine; I sustained no lasting damage against Horatius Cocles and Attila the Hun." Dingir replied. "The Roman fled, but the Hun is dead. Godou now has the sword of Mars that Attila stole the God of War."

"Good to know."

"The boy needs training with the sword, unlike his sword of victory, which acts more as a finishing blow; the other will require some knowledge and skill."

"I will speak to my niece about training him," the man replied.

"Your niece?"

"Erica Blandelli."

"Ah, the suspicious blonde knight with Godou," Dingir realised. "So that would make you?"

"Of course, we've yet to introduce ourselves, I am Paolo Blandelli, as for why you've been summoned here; we have had recent sightings of a Heretic God off the cost of Dover, our contacts in England have informed us that the other English Campione, Black Prince Alec has headed off on a journey and has ignored their summons, so we request your help."

"Sure, no problem," Dingir said immediately without a care. "Any information on which Heretic God it is?"

Paolo looked surprised, most Campione were difficult to deal with, Alec being a prime example due to his arrogance of being a God Slayer. "A-Ah, yes of course, due to the weaponry and armour worn by the God, we are almost certain that it is Gawain."

"Gawain!" Dingir suddenly exclaimed, leaning forward. "Are you sure, as in the Knights of the Round's Gawain?"

"That's right," Paolo replied, confused by my sudden excitement. "I take it that Gawain is of interest to you?"

"Absolutely, I love old legends, but more importantly, he has one of the two Excaliburs, and I love to collect swords, three of my authorities are swords, and I would like the opportunity to make my way through all the pantheons swords if I can." Dingir smiled at thought of increasing his armoury.

'A collector?' thought Paolo, frowning slightly; the black prince was a collector, and caused havoc to find what he desired, even robbing mage orders for their artefacts. "Just make sure you don't rob any of our swords, we've had enough problems with another Campione who steals whatever artefact he wants." Paolo knew he was pushing his luck here, as strong as he was, any Campione could kill him with ease. But at the same time he wanted things firmly understood on what was acceptable.

Dingir quirked a brow in confusion, then after a moment, snorted in amusement. "Unless you've somehow hidden away any sword Authorities in your vaults, I promise it'll never be a problem. I intend to fill my armoury from Heretic Gods alone, and given your people have helped me when I was stranded abroad without any papers, money, or clothing, I'm not about to betray that kindness."

Paolo's eyes noticeably widened, before smiling. He could sense no lie in this god slayer, they were fortunate that the eighth Campione was very different to the norm, and unlike Godou who was naïve to magic prior to fighting the Persian war god, and had an excuse for being different, Dingir seemed an honourable enough person. "I'm glad to hear it," he said. "Now since you will need to take a plane, we have taken the precaution of preparing a passport, plane ticket, and credit card, along with the forged documentation we sent you earlier." Pulling out an envelope and sliding it forward.

Dingir took it and smiled. "Thank you," he gave the contents a brief check to confirm it was all there, it was. "When do I need to leave?"

"A member of my staff will drive you there momentarily, and if you can, please try to limit the damage in your battle."

"That depends on Gawain," Dingir replied. "But I will try my best to avoid dragging others into the conflict."

"I appreciate it."

* * *

 _(Later)_

Dingir stretched after waking from a dream, he was currently on-board the international flight from Italy to England that Paolo had arranged so he could battle against the Heretic God Gawain, who possessed a sword that Dingir desperately desired. One of the two Excaliburs, the Excalibur Galatine, like his Alternate Gram, it drew power from the aspect of the sun, and allowed him to cut anywhere the sun shone, cutting even at a distance. Galatine however was in a completely different league; it was the sun itself, using intense heat and power. Dingir wanted it. With such a weapon, he could split mountains or turn cities to ash; it would make an excellent addition to his armoury to defeat future gods as well as the enemies in his own reality.

"Only two hours until we reach our destination," came the pilot's voice through the speaker system.

"Care for another beverage?" enquired one of the staff, pushing a trolley down the narrow gap between the rows of seats.

"A beer, any kind will be fine."

"Here you go, your highness," she said with a smile, not taking his offered bank note.

'Of course…' obviously they had followed him. Taking a sip of his beer, he sighed, well at least the sixth Campione had honoured his promise, Dingir now wore a fine Italian suit, black with faint pinstripes, a blood red shirt, and black tie with a solid gold tie clip in the shape of the copper black cross group, it had been hidden in the envelope Paolo had given him. The rest of his clothes had been meticulously folded in his new suitcase to avoid creasing; he had worked with suits in the past and knew the correct method. Only two hours to go.

When he landed, a suited man, built like a tank, but clearly nervous of him, was waiting outside the plane with Dingir's suitcase in hand. Dingir had left the plane through another entrance on the other side of the plane, via steps extending down to the runway. Next to the man was an incredibly expensive looking limo, Dingir could sense dense magical energy inside. They were reps from the English equivalent of the Copper Black Cross in Italy, the Witenagemot. It sounded like something out of Harry Potter.

"Welcome sir," the large man said, lowering his head slightly in greeting. "The speaker of the Witenagemot wishes to speak to you." Opening the car door, and politely gesturing to get in.

"Very well."

Inside was a beautiful, if frail blonde woman, possibly late teens or early twenties, it was difficult to gauge, blue eyed, and dressed in an elegant noblewoman's dress. She didn't seem dangerous by appearance, but Dingir's senses told a different story, she had a lot of magical power for someone not a Campione or God. His grey eyes momentarily flickered gold as he noticed something rather interesting about her, she recoiled minutely at his eyes changing. This young lady wasn't actually there; she was a projection made of ectoplasm, enough to have a mild physical presence by…was that telekinesis for physical interactions?

"How very interesting," he noted. "You're not actually here."

The young lady had probably been about to introduce herself, but paused in surprise that he had immediately realised her secret. As a result of a divine possession and her own overwhelming magic, her physical body was slowly dying, bedbound with a very weak constitution. She wouldn't know it, but Dingir had suffered similar difficulties after repeated use of Origin magic, straining himself to the utter limit against Devils, using magic far beyond his capacity to endure. But neither did he know why she projected herself.

"How very impressive that you noticed that," she replied. "I suppose introductions are in order, I am Alice Louise, speaker of the Witenagemot."

"Nice to meet you, as you already know, I'm Dingir the eighth Campione, so are there any updates on Gawain's location?"

"He remains on the edge of Dover," Alice replied. "Perhaps waiting for something; however his power of the sun flares up at noon, and causes severe damage to the surroundings for many miles. Farms crops have been destroyed, trees burning, and thousands have died from sunstrokes and dehydration, and each day it grows stronger, spreads further. We have arranged an emergency evacuation, but it will be difficult to keep them away from their homes for long."

Dingir nodded, he glanced to his wrist watch, a cheap digital one he had brought at the airport in Italy. It was 10am, two hours until noon. "It's going to be close to defeat him prior to that including travel time, but I'll do my best," he informed the witch.

"Good," she nodded.

The large man was also the driver, and after putting away the suitcase into the car-boot and quickly jumped back into the limo, and started up the engine. "We're ready to go, my lady."

"Excellent, get us there as soon as possible," Alice replied.

The limo sped away at speeds closer to a race car, no doubt modified in some manner, but Dingir knew little of cars, and wasn't trusted behind the wheel of one by anybody. He and Alice chatted on the journey, she became bubblier and friendly as time passed, which seemed to be her natural personality, while the formal manner she conducted herself with seemed to be facade she wore when dealing with the other English Campione, who was apparently quite the handful.

While they chatted, Dingir considered how to handle the sun wielding knight, his original Gram and demonic powers would be his best bet to deal damage at a distance, while using Balmung to regenerate his body being burnt by sun. The real issue would be crushing the legendary knight fast enough to avoid creating anymore victims. Unlike with Horiatis and Attila, there were real stakes in taking this victory.

'Bring it on, Gawain, the curse of God vs. the knight of the sun.'

* * *

 **CHAPTER END**

 _ **Next Chapter:**_ _the curse against the sun_

* * *

 _A/N: Next chapter will be Gawain against Dingir, and no bitching about fight length, real fights don't last long. However given the strength of Gawain's authorities I'll probably need two chapters for the full fight, so something to look forward to._

 _Now as Christmas is coming up, might I recommend the books and comics below as gift ideas._

* * *

 **MY MAIN BOOKS AND COMICS:**

 _Search the titles on Amazon, Lulu, Barnes &Noble, and most major online retailers._

 **Grey Faction:** Arrival of the Grey Queen

 **Grey Faction:** Mistaken Apostles

 **Grey Faction Comic:** Jinhai's Justice 2018

 **Grey Faction Comic:** School Wars _(chapter one free to download)_

 **Detective Michael:** The Scalpel Murder

 **Detective Michael:** Riverside Mystery

 **Detective Michael Comic:** Volume 1

 **Vampire Attack:** Empire of Shadows

 **Secret Yuuki & the Guilty Heart Chronicles:** Dimension Wars

 **Secret Yuuki & the Guilty Heart Chronicles:** Starlight Alliance

 **Nexus Comic:** Volume 1

 **Corpses 'N' Things**

 **Monsters 'N' Things**

 **Vampires 'N' Things**


	11. The curse against the sun

_A/N: Here we go, sorry for the slow updates, but I've been in and out of hospital a lot lately, plus other time consuming bullocks that I won't bore you with this time. Now enjoy the newest chapter._

 _Oh by the way, if you want to see Dingir fighting vampires, he cameos in the horror comic + light novel:_ _ **Vampire Attack – Shadow Force**_ _, available online via amazon._ _And in the sci-fi series;_ _ **Secret Yuuki**_ _, book 1- Dimension War, book 2 - Starlight Alliance._

* * *

 **Dingir the curse of God, and now Campione?**

 _Campione X Grey Faction crossover_

* * *

 **Chapter Eight: the curse against the sun**

 _11:45, Dover coast (15 minutes before noon)_

Dingir screamed in agony as the flesh and meat was boiled yet again from his bones. Balmung kept him alive, but couldn't regenerate him fast enough to avoid the horrific amount of pain that assailed his senses. He dimly felt his limbs being cut off again by Excalibur Galatine, the pesky bastard. Dingir's eyes had melted into gooey tears, he could feel nothing but pain, none of his other senses worked, but it was a safe bet that he was being tossed into the sky and then smashed into the white cliffs by the mighty knight. It had happened a lot, once the knight had decided to take the fight seriously.

If this went on, even if Gawain couldn't kill him, the ever increasing power of the sun would destroy everything for many miles. Dingir tried pushing his regeneration to only part of his body, his eyes alone to speed it up, he briefly saw himself directly above the sea, before his eyes melted again. He immediately grew six white angel wings, and with a few flaps of the powerful appendages, he hit the boiling waters and propelled himself thousands of feet beneath the sea into cooler water, as Balmung grew over his ruined body, protecting his slowly healing form from the crushing force from being deep underwater.

Dingir was now able to finally take a break from the continuous attacks. Gawain had quickly realised how to prevent Dingir from using his more powerful authorities by burning him to death again and again, forcing him to prioritize his regeneration. Had it been any other immortal, they would have likely given up in the face of that hideous agony. But he was not any other immortal; he had endured Hell itself, for ten years, being endlessly tortured to death and revived without pause. That said, he still felt pain like everyone else and was very irritated by the knight.

'I think a little revenge is in order,' he thought, activating several authorities at once. Balmung transformed, becoming more than a second skin, becoming armour. He retained his wings, summoned two swords, and channelled the darkness. It was time to reverse the situation.

* * *

 _11:10, mere minutes away from Dover coast (50 minutes before noon)_

Dingir began to sweat heavily as they drew close to the cliffs, outside all of the crops were wilted brown or charred black. The tarmac on the roads was sticky. They saw nobody around; thankfully the Witenagemot had indeed cleared everyone out. However the occasional smoking human corpse and many animal ones showed a tragedy had still taken place. Dingir's eyes flashed golden in irritation as he saw it all. Meanwhile they were relatively safe inside the car, protected for the most part by Alice's spells.

"You will end it soon, your majesty," Alice stated firmly, seeing Dingir's irritation.

"Just call me Dingir, I have no need of a title, those _majesties_ grate on my nerves."

Alice smiled faintly. "Isn't Dingir also a title?" she then remarked.

"You know ancient Sumerian?" Dingir replied with mild surprise.

"Only from a handful spells, and basic history, it means both angel and god, correct?"

"My most hated enemies called me that in reference to my first authority," Dingir replied, reluctant to admit it. But it seemed pointless to lie if she knew its meaning; though he tweaked the truth a bit. "After fighting them many times, I finally defeated them, and took their authorities for myself." He briefly let his body be engulfed in a white angelic aura. Her eyes widened, recognising the type of energy, so similar to that which had possessed her as a child.

"Might I ask what your real name is?"

The car stopped, they had reached their destination. Hot air was pushing at the car; Dingir could see a red armoured man watching them from a nearby cliff's edge. The air around him seemed to warp from the extreme heat he released.

Dingir stepped out, he winced at the heat, it felt like he was standing in a desert, and it was getting hotter every second. His senses reached out, tasting at the heretic god's strength, what he felt was remarkable. Now this was a worthy challenge.

"My name _was_ Mark," Dingir finally replied, giving her a smile. His features then turned serious. "Now please flee as fast and far as you can, this god is stronger than the last three I've fought. If you stay, you die."

"Of course," Alice nodded, while she wasn't really here, her driver was. Dingir closed the car door, and it immediately sped off.

The knight now regarded him, patiently waiting atop the cliff for him. Dingir calmly strode forward, no aggression, as though he was taking a simple walk. His flesh was reddening, and steam rose from his clothing. Inwardly Dingir cursed, lamenting with the knowledge that his new suit wouldn't survive the battle. If there hadn't been an attractive young woman in the car with him, it probably would have occurred to him to change attire.

'Oh well, I didn't pay for it anyway.'

Balmung healed Dingir's sunburnt skin, he appeared unharmed, save for the smoke and steam that trailed behind him. Now merely metres away from the legendary knight, only then did Gawain speak. "Well met, Campione," he said politely with an old English accent. Gawain stood about half a head shorter than himself, brown haired, and blue eyed, annoyingly good looking, reminding Dingir of the former champion of Tartarus, Cambion the demon. The older brother to the same Lilith who sent Dingir to this world, they did not get along, they had history as enemies, but that wasn't the main reason he disliked Cambion.

"Well met, Gawain," Dingir replied.

"Oh?" Gawain remarked with a quirked brow. "So you know me?"

"I'd be hard pressed to not recognise that armour or that sword, what brings a knight of the round table here?"

"Your politeness serves you well Demon King, however I answer only to Arthur, and my reasons are my own."

"You are burning the surroundings by being here, so I am going to have to insist."

Gawain sighed with frustration. "I await the end, the return of my King."

"That isn't an issue; however the power of the sun is scorching the land and killing people. Desist at once with your power or I will fulfil role," Dingir warned.

"I care not for my existence's effects upon mortals, but if you are challenging me, I accept." Gawain slowly drew the Excalibur Galatine at his hip with a steely hiss. Immediately Dingir summoned the golden sword Gram, the weapon wielded by both Gilgamesh and Sigurd, later used as inspiration for the sword in the stone, the Caliburn.

' _Born by the legend of a false immortal, reaching to the heavens, I demand the Creator's light, bringing endless salvation, now cleave and present the promised victory and ruin that slays even the great dragon!'_

Their swords met with a mass of golden light and fire, swirling, exploding, before being pushed away by the physical force of their attacks. The gold and green fae sword's edge pressed hard against the guard the divine golden sword.

'Just how many eye and hand feints was that?' Dingir thought, eyes widening, breaking out in a cold sweat, before the heat evaporated it. While his muscles shook from the sheer force that was pushing against him. Had Dingir's instincts not seen which attack was real, his upper body would have been separated from the lower. The ground beneath Dingir's feet began to crack.

"Well block, young lad."

Dingir didn't reply, remaining completely focused on the heretic god before him. 'Shit this is bad...' he inwardly cursed, if he changed the way he was locked with their blades, this god would easily kill him. But could he die? Balmung didn't heal him as fast as it did in this realm when compare to his original world, becoming an authority had actually lessened Balmung. He had found out the hard way when Attila the Hun shot the top of his head off with an arrow.

With a burst of movement, Dingir did an upwards thrust, using his free hand to push with the Gram's hilt, while kicking hard against the ground, lunging with extreme movement. Gawain was sent skidding back. His guard remained firm, however, eyes flickering briefly red. "You have some skill with the sword," Gawain acknowledged.

"Thanks," Dingir replied, a white aura surrounding him, feeding into his blade.

"But not enough to face me," Gawain continued, and then the two seemed to vanish, an explosion of force, as hundreds, if not thousands of swords strikes were exchanged.

In the midst of that desperate clash of blades, just barely blocking this man's flawless and fierce techniques it became painfully clear to Dingir that Gawain's swordsmanship was far superior to his. They finally parted, and the God and Campione began slowly circling each other. Dingir felt the fractures in his arms realign and snap back together.

"Oh… you endured that?" he noted, pleasantly surprised that a man of the modern era had lasted so long. Gawain laughed with glee, before slipping around Dingir at high speeds, swinging to behead him. But Dingir span on the spot to generate extra power, while slashing upwards from a low angle, just barely deflecting the blade away from him. "You're not going to be easy prey, are you?"

"There's no prey here," Dingir replied quietly, his Gram held in a defensive stance. "But one of us will be dying here."

"Oh...You think that you can kill me?"

"It's my job to deal with supernatural threats," Dingir replied, slowly circling him, angelic power surrounding himself and his blade. He held out his spare hand, summoning the second Gram to dual wield.

' _Born by the legend of a wrathful God, reaching unto the heavens, I devoured the Creator's golden blood, siring endless salvation and punishment, now present the promised victory and ruin that slays even the Seraphim themselves!'_

"Well then, shall I start taking this seriously?" Gawain asked.

Dingir took a deep breath, and exhaled a black mist, (Pestilence Breath) engulfing Gawain and their immediate surroundings. _'Know the word, breath the death, let thy life know its end!'_

What little had survived the massive heat began to rot away. Gawain screamed in pain as his skin began to rot.

" _ **The sword of the perfect knight given to carry out the will of justice, to slice the wicked, to slay evil, now burn bright, Excalibur Galatine!"**_

Gawain swiftly unleashed Excalibur Galatine's true power. A single slash split the cliffs, continuing on as an arc of light, in the distance Dingir saw the top of a large hill lift up from his base. Unlike the original Excalibur which would obliterate any structure, turning it to rubble, the Galatine simply cut though everything it reached.

As the poisonous mist Dingir had gotten from Asag was pushed away like dust in the wind, he found himself falling, and looking at the sky. The sun's heat far more intense as Gawain started using his authority as more than an ordinary blade. Without Dingir's constant regeneration, his skin would be burning; even so it was baking, his eyes stung, and his throat felt absurdly parched.

'Why am I on the ground?' Dingir wondered, then he saw his lower half still standing. "Ah… I see…I didn't dodge it." Then came the familiar rushing, all-consuming pain that came with being bisected, he screamed, teeth gritted, veins bulging, even so you could hear him clearly as he tried to contain it.

Black tendrils emerged from both parts of his body, intermingled, and roughly yanked him into the air, and then reattached the two halves. Dingir took a deep shuddering breath. He had experienced far worse as child, and many horrible things since, but he felt pain like anyone else. He felt vindicated that he had used Asag's pestilence on the heretic god before being cut.

"You are more monster than man it seems," Gawain remarked, observing the regeneration. Dingir startled, faced him, holding both versions of Gram at the ready. Gawain's face and exposed flesh were covered in purplish, dripping wounds, that was expected, what wasn't expected is how this form seemed to flicker back and forth with another form. A tall, pale man, long black hair, dressed in black, a red jewel imbedded in his chest. Dingir had no way of knowing it, but that form was an earlier incarnation that the heretic god used, it appeared across history, assuming roles of many gods and heroes.

'What the heck is that?!'

The flickering between forms stopped. 'I have not given up on reuniting with the strongest steel,' Gawain thought. 'I cannot revert to my earliest incarnation before then.' He tightened his grip on Excalibur Galatine. 'Bertilak is strongest at noon, but I should not wait, let its might rise with the sun.'

 _(A/N: Wait…I am fighting Escanor right now?)_

" _ **The most fervent, the most loyal, and yet most failing knight, to serve, protect, to give rise to the dawn and noon, to bring the fire that is both life and death. I unleash this weapon upon a worthy foe, in the name of the true king! Armour of Bertilak!"**_

His armour began to glow with blinding light as Gawain spoke his sacred words. The very air became superheated, everything but Gawain began to burn. The sun seemed too loom far closer in the sky.

'This is bad!'

Dingir felt his skin sizzling, Balmung of course healed him, but the damage was continuous, self-repeating. That distraction provided Gawain the opening to take Dingir from behind, blasting him with what could only be called a miniature sun.

"Let us see what gives out first, your healing, or my power!" Gawain declared after engulfing the eighth Campione in the inferno of his authority.

* * *

 **CHAPTER END**

 _ **Next Chapter: Falling and Karna**_

* * *

 _A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I'll be seeing those of you that can come to_ _ **Brighton comic con**_ _(aka – international comic expo) this_ _ **Saturday 9**_ _ **th**_ _ **March**_ _2019 at the Holiday Inn_ _,_ _137 Kings Road_ _,_ _Brighton_ _,_ _BN1 2JF (10am – 6pm) I'm at table 26, one of corner tables in the main selling area. You can get in on the day at noon if you didn't pre-pay a ticket. (They're cheap too!)_

 _Tickets available at the door, I'll be selling my Grey Faction comic: Jinhai's Justice, the illustrated novel of Grey Faction, and my crime light novel series; Detective Michael: Scalpel Murder, and Riverside Mystery. Anyone who can come, I'd really appreciate it._

* * *

 **MY MAIN BOOKS AND COMICS:**

 _Search the titles on Amazon, Lulu, Barnes &Noble, and most major online retailers._

 **DINGIRVERSE BOOKS AND COMICS**

 **Grey Faction:** Arrival of the Grey Queen

 **Grey Faction:** Mistaken Apostles

 **Grey Faction comic:** Jinhai's Justice 2018

 **Grey Faction comic:** School Wars Manga

 **Grey Faction comic** : Arrival of the Grey Queen

 **Detective Michael:** The Scalpel Murder

 **Detective Michael:** Riverside Mystery

 **Detective Michael Comic:** Scalpel  & the Hunt

 **Vampire Attack:** Empire of Shadows

 **Vampire Attack:** Shadow Force

 **Secret Yuuki & the Guilty Heart Chronicles:** Dimension Wars

 **Secret Yuuki & the Guilty Heart Chronicles:** Starlight Alliance

 **HORROR ANTHOLOGIES**

 **Corpses 'N' Things** horror anthology

 **Monsters 'N' Things** horror anthology

 **Vampires 'N' Things** horror anthology

 **POETRY**

 **Melodies of a Madman**

 **Brighton Festival Haiku winner**

 **Vampoetry**


	12. Falling and Karna

_A/N: Here we go, sorry for the slow updates, but I've been in and out of hospital a lot lately, plus other time consuming bullocks that I won't bore you with. Now enjoy the newest chapter._ _Oh by the way, if you want to see Dingir fighting vampires, he cameos in the horror comic + light novel:_ _ **Vampire Attack – Shadow Force**_ _, available online via amazon._ _And in the sci-fi series;_ _ **Secret Yuuki**_ _, book 1- Dimension War, book 2 - Starlight Alliance._

 _Dingir first appears in the_ _ **Grey Faction**_ _trilogy, which is available from amazon, Barnes & Noble, and most online retailers. ;) hint – hint. I just got my tax reports on book sales this year...That shit is depressing. Guess I've got to try harder for 2019._

* * *

 **Dingir the curse of God, and now Campione?**

 _Campione X Grey Faction crossover_

* * *

 **Chapter Nine: Falling and Karna**

Gawain watched as the burning Campione fled deep beneath the waves. It was his win, it seemed. "Arthur, I dedicate this victory to you," Gawain declared, holding his sword up towards the heavens, even as the sun seemed to almost press upon the earth. The knight felt some regret at the damage his power caused, but only a small piece of the kingdom would be damaged, and as one awaiting the return of his lord, and as a heretic against his myth, as all gods were, it did not ultimately matter.

' _ **Hear no evil, speak no evil, see no evil, six great coverings that ascend the body and know the sky and soar ever onward!'**_

'What's this?' Gawain wondered, sensing a surge of divine power. 'Has he come back for more?'

' _ **The curse be thy body, the great enemy will be thy power, wrap in deepest shadows, procreate the greatest poison, Oh rot away lowly ones, the great might consumes all sanity and delivers death!'**_

The sea, which was boiling, began to slowly turn black, as though an ink pot had been spilled into water.

' _ **Let mine body be a river of death, that fills the seas, land, and sky, rot, rot, oh rot endlessly, that which birthed from mountains, deliverer of time and the end, rot, rot, oh know the agony that is the world!'**_

The blackness spread up the cliffs, forever ruining the namesake of the England's shore, the rock slowly began to turn to sludge, with deeper cracks being wormed into deeper in.

"Ha!" Gawain laughed, power surging his armour now shining a blinding gold. He took a stance, awaiting the attack that was to come. "You fled to gather your power, seems I was too much for you." There was no response, assuming his words could be heard, the divine power simply continued to increase.

' _ **Let hate be my lover, let pain and fear be my greatest feast, Oh great shadow of humanity, gather upon the tails of madness!'**_

Dingir was gathering many Authorities, combining them to overcome the primal power of the sun, and sword skills that outstripped his.

First, he regrew his burnt wings.

Second, he donned his armour, which used Balmung as a medium to wield the inhuman strength of the primordial Devil Asag.

Third, he poured out pestilence in preparation.

The final one was something special, a power first stolen by Sigurd, stored within Balmung, and later claimed by Dingir by good fortune. The power of Belial, not simply darkness, but a primordial that fed on all things bad happening in the world. Dingir fed on the pain of the dying people, the countless boiling aquatic life, and even the agony he just experienced.

" **AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!"** Dingir screamed with a distorted, inhuman voice, as he propelled himself from the sea, like a launched rocket. The sun immediately assailed him, but the mass of rotten filth, created by his power acted like a buffer from the heat, being burned away little by little. Dingir closed in on Gawain, who was ready to counter with an 'Iai' or 'quick draw' technique. A technique that required good footing, and ideally to be stationary, Dingir denied him that. The full power of pestilence then surged in response to his will, making the cliffs in their entirety break away. Gawain suddenly found himself free falling.

"You coward!" Gawain roared angrily, as what looked like a mountain of sludge and vile filth surged like a wave towards the heretic god.

" _ **Fools, be denied light! Know not the great five paths to salvation, stumble and fade away, forever lost!"**_

All Gawain's surroundings were engulfed in absolute darkness. Neither could he hear or feel anything, though he knew he must be falling. Denied a means of perception, but even so, Gawain swung his sword with confidence, letting the Excalibur cut everything in the direction of his blade's edge, whether it be flesh, or fortifications, the mountains, the very sea, it would split them with ease.

" _ **The sword of the perfect knight given to carry out the will of justice, to slice the wicked, to slay evil, now burn bright, Excalibur Galatine!"**_

The darkness vanished, blown away by the Excalibur Galatine, he saw Dingir's arm, clutching the Gram, dismembered by his sword. Gawain then felt an instant of pride and satisfaction, but then his body seemed to freeze for an instant, experiencing primal fear as their eyes locked. Dingir's eyes were now all-white, no pupil, yet somehow seemed to pierce into his soul, conveying an inhuman hunger to violate. Gawain saw another form overlapping with the Campione, it was a devil with four branching horns, purple-black skin made of rotting flesh, and the same all white eyes. Gawain should have fled, he should have tried, but a knight should not flee, or so he would tell himself. And however impossible the possibility, in that brief instance, it occurred to Gawain that Dingir was a Campione that was not human. Nothing born of Adam and Eve could birth this.

…This thing!

Balmung bubbled from the stump of Dingir's arm in that same instant, it did not recover the arm however, and instead surged forward, engulfing Gawain's Excalibur and his arm up to the elbow. Now connected, Dingir stopped Gawain's fall with a persistent flap of his six angelic wings, whose appearance was greatly at odds with his black armour, which at its joints belched smoke and red energy, looking like a final boss out of Warcraft or Dark Souls games.

"You dare, unhand me!" Gawain pulled with his godly strength, but unlike before, now donned in the Asag armour, Dingir did not budge in the slightest. Balmung began to expand and then contract around the arm. Gawain fell back, now missing his arm and sword, screaming in agony at the loss of the limb.

Balmung extended, catching Dingir's own severed limb, and reattaching it. Gram swung, removing Gawain's other arm. An uppercut followed, fueled with super (devil) human strength, sending Gawain flying at an angle through the rock and into the sky; he passed the former homes of the cliffs, and skidded for thousands of metres across the scorched earth.

'I'll need to purify that after,' Dingir unconsciously noted as he followed after Gawain. He soon found Gawain lying in scorched, cracked earth, which wouldn't have looked out of place in Hell itself.

* * *

 _(Static)_

" **WE NEED TO PUNISH HIM; YOU'RE NOT SATISFIED WITH THIS, ARE YOU? HE BURNED YOU, SLICED YOU, TORTURED YOU, I REMEMBER HOW MUCH YOU HATE THAT."**

 _(Static)_

* * *

Gawain lay there, unable to move, as terrible pain assaulting his senses. Gawain felt control of his power slipping, the sun returned to its original place in the sky, and the heat slowly began to reduce. Dingir landed atop him seconds later, knees either side of Gawain's torso. Dingir had simply turned off his wings, breaking several of the knight's ribs as he landed.

"S-So what now, you monster?" Gawain asked, vomiting blood. "You already have my sword."

Dingir's armour vanished into smoke. It revealed Dingir completely naked, obviously his clothing had burnt away before his skin had the first time he was burned. His skin was now an inhuman red despite regenerating, and his face twisted into a bestial snarl, and sclera so bloodshot, they appeared all red instead of white. Even his usually grey irises were now glowing golden with biblical divinity.

Dingir raised a muscled arm.

Gawain noticed much of Dingir's body was scarred despite the regeneration; these were old wounds which his body saw as the 'default,' many from fangs, claws, burns, and demonic corruption. Gawain understood now the purpose of Dingir's swordplay, it was not meant for either humans or Gods, but monsters and demons.

Dingir clenched his fist, before answering, "I'll be returning the favour," and without his arms, Gawain was effectively pinned.

A gold and white aura was now beginning to hum faintly around Dingir, clear to see now that it wasn't being drowned out by his evil authorities, an unconscious activation, relating to how he fought in his original world. Gawain knew what it was, angelic power from the old days. Power granted by the biblical god.

"Nephilim…" Gawain muttered. Dingir's fist then smashed into Gawain's jaw, he felt it break.

"I was," Dingir replied, punching him again. "Now I am a Campione."

And so it continued…

 _Punch!_

 _Crack!_

 _Punch!_

 _Punch!_

 _Punch!_

 _Spurt!_

 _Punch!_

 _Punch!_

 _Crack!_

 _Punch!_

 _Punch!_

 _Punch!_

 _Punch!_

 _Punch!_

 _Crack!_

 _Punch!_

* * *

An hour after noon (1pm) it finally ended, and what had once been Gawain began to scatter into golden motes of light. With Gawain dead, Dingir felt the stolen sword accept him as its new wielder. Shockingly, the remaining motes of light took the form of the same black haired man with the red jewel in his chest, whose image had briefly overlapped with Gawain before. Dingir regarded him with wary surprise.

" _I have many forms to my legend, I wanted to see my friend Arthur, and so I denied myself my oldest and strongest incarnation as Karna. When next I descend to the mortal world, I will completely obliterate you Campione for denying me that meeting, prepare yourself!"_

The form disappeared.

Dingir simply sighed, "A legend built upon a legend, huh?"

Dingir slowly stood, regarding his bloody fists as they regenerated back to normal. Soon after his skin regained its human colour, and his eyes returned to their usual grey. That change was the result of an incomplete form of Origin Magic, the act of drawing strength from the heritage of one's blood. Before Dingir could draw forth the wings of the Seraphim to boost his angelic power, this form, this wrath, was what had awoken to him. It wasn't a power; it was simply what he was.

97% Human, 2% Angel, 1% Biblical God.

Almost entirely human, most exorcists carried more heavenly blood than Dingir, even so, due to his decade in Hell, and similar amount of time with the Seraph Adel, his soul had broken, expanded, and greedily fed upon his ancestor's ambient magicks, making him a creature closer to a true Seraph.

"It seems that Pandora made a mistake in giving me this new potential and strength," Dingir grinned, in a better mood now that he'd won, having humiliated and tortured Gawain in return for the numerous burnings. "But if you'll give it to a Nephilim like me, I won't be complaining. I can keep getting stronger until Lilith finds me, and the day that I destroy Hell."

He then flew back to where the crumbling rock of what had once been the white cliffs of Dover, seeing the rotted earth, the sludge-like rocks, and the poisoned sea. Dingir focused his power, calling out authorities in complete opposition to the ones of Asag. Time to heal the land and seas from the effects of his battle, sadly there was nothing he could do about the charred and dried land, or any loss of life. Miracles were beyond him for the most part. But he could prevent further death.

" _ **In the name of Adel, let there be light, let all evil be purged and destroyed, Amen!"**_

The land spewed the filth away into the sea or into the air, where the purification obliterated it, as for the sea itself, the blackness cleared swiftly, like bleach poured into coke, only on an absurd scale. Dingir stood there, pleased at the results, before a rising wind reminded him of his clothing situation.

"I hope those two come back…" Dingir finally sighed. "It will be very awkward otherwise."

* * *

 _(Later)_

Finally the titanic clashes of authorities between the God and Campione had ended, and even so far away from the battle; Alice had been forced to use her magic to safeguard her bodyguard and the car itself from the sun's power. The car had actually sunk into the tar, which even now still simmered, instead of boiled. To compensate the lack of mobility, she used telekinesis to lift the car a few inches above the soft tarmac.

"The battle is over, Harold." Alice informed him. "We best go collect him then."

"As you wish, my lady," Harold replied calmly, though she knew him well enough that the titanic show of force had unnerved him. Perhaps she would feel the same way, if she was actually there; and not slowly dying in a bed as a result of being possessed by the strongest Heretic God.

The car floated along the remains of the road, until they reached what had been grass, and now dry, cracked earth, Alice lowered the car, sighed with relief, and had Harold drive normally from then on.

Upon reaching the devastated battleground, they saw Dingir, bathed in light, with six angelic wings upon his back. They saw the toxic environment vanish under its effects, leaving only cracked, dried earth. Now deeming it safe, Alice climbed out of the car, Harold following moments later.

"It seems you were successful, Dingir." Alice noted as they cautiously approached, though thankful he had undone what was likely one of his own authorities, as the knight of the sun had nothing so dark and toxic.

"He put up a much harder fight than I expected, but yes, I won in the end." Dingir replied. "I would have preferred to not be set on fire repeatedly though." He confidently turned, deactivating his wings, and pointed to Harold. "Now be a dear and fetch my suitcase."

Alice's face immediately blushed a deep crimson upon noticing his lack of clothing, and looked away. Harold snickered at the situation, but wisely obeyed the order.

"Why are you in such a state?" she asked, embarrassed.

Dingir refused to allow himself to feel embarrassment. "My clothes are not fire proof," he replied casually. "That idiot burned them away."

The driver quickly returned, and Dingir gratefully scrambled into his underwear, and then the rest. Given that he was outside; he skipped the complicated clothing, wearing a simple black tee-shirt and slacks.

"Well I suppose we better head back."

"Y-Yes of course."

Dingir would later gain the Campione moniker; King of Light and Darkness, in reference to his primary authorities, which he thought was awesome. But a few would gave him another title, one that would cause misunderstandings in the future, the Exhibitionist King.

That one Dingir didn't like so much.

* * *

 **CHAPTER END**

 _ **Next Chapter: Light of Heaven**_

* * *

 _A/N: Bet you weren't expecting another chapter so soon? Well if you liked this be sure to check out my other Grey Faction (Dingirverse) crossovers on this site._

* * *

 **MY MAIN BOOKS AND COMICS:**

 _Search the titles on Amazon, Lulu, Barnes &Noble, and most major online retailers._

 **DINGIRVERSE BOOKS AND COMICS**

 **Grey Faction:** Arrival of the Grey Queen

 **Grey Faction:** Mistaken Apostles

 **Grey Faction comic:** Jinhai's Justice 2018

 **Grey Faction comic:** School Wars Manga

 **Grey Faction comic** : Arrival of the Grey Queen

 **Detective Michael:** The Scalpel Murder

 **Detective Michael:** Riverside Mystery

 **Detective Michael Comic:** Scalpel  & the Hunt

 **Vampire Attack:** Empire of Shadows

 **Vampire Attack:** Shadow Force

 **Secret Yuuki & the Guilty Heart Chronicles:** Dimension Wars

 **Secret Yuuki & the Guilty Heart Chronicles:** Starlight Alliance

 **HORROR ANTHOLOGIES**

 **Corpses 'N' Things** horror anthology

 **Monsters 'N' Things** horror anthology

 **Vampires 'N' Things** horror anthology

 **POETRY**

 **Melodies of a Madman**

 **Brighton Festival Haiku winner**

 **Vampoetry**


	13. Light of Heaven

_**A/N:**_ _I've gotten some great suggestions from Flagarach for future Gods that Dingir can face, and move away from the trend of simple steel gods. I had to do a lot of research for them, but those gods do have swords so… I'm going to have them. Be sure to check out Flagarach's own Campione fanfiction, it's awesome. (It sits in the family)_

 _Now in the review suggestion, send me the names of any gods with swords, but not simple steel gods, that you'd like to see in this, and I might use them. I'm considering a certain someone from Marvel, and someone of a musical origin for the next hunts._

 _Normally I would update another story first, as I did this one recently, but as I had already planned the chapter, and since I'm going in for surgery tomorrow, who knows when my next update would be, so here you go, enjoy._

 _ **(Update) I didn't finish this chapter in time, despite what I said above, so here we go post-surgery…also OUCH! I had a quadruple dose of anaesthetic, and I still felt it. Fuck!**_

* * *

 **Dingir the curse of God, and now Campione?**

 _Campione X Grey Faction crossover_

* * *

 **Chapter 10: Light of Heaven**

The car journey back was obviously awkward, young Alice found it difficult to maintain conversation, or hold his gaze, Dingir hadn't intended to bare all, but he hadn't much choice in the matter. It was sad to think that a god's last act of revenge had been to embarrass him, though it was obviously more so for young Alice. Had she a few more years on her, Dingir would have casually teased her about it. Such a pity, however given the burnt surroundings outside the car, and the lack of conversation, Dingir was bored, which is why he only noticed the oddity about Alice on the drive back. Alice contained a spark of divinity, not the usual gold of a heretic god, but something stronger, denser, and more primal. It was something he possessed himself, a spark of true divinity, the power of Yahweh. The energy was like a ghost, hard to sense earlier with greater needs to take his focus. Dingir was likely sensing a faint hint of it via the connection to her true body.

'Is she like me?'

'No, it feels more like a blessing than a blood connection or origin magic.'

'This world's heretic version…huh?'

'…Yahweh.'

And then, nearly an hour later, Dingir began to notice that the divine spark felt gradually stronger, expanding, as though being fed.

"Alice," Dingir prompted firmly, hoping to get her attention by the change of tone.

"Y-Yes?"

"I sense a familiar divinity within you, have you been blessed by a god, specifically, **HIM**?" Dingir asked, making a meaningful gesture to the heavens.

Alice's embarrassment was swept away with anger.

"Blessed?" Alice snorted with distaste. "I was **possessed** as a child; and as a result, I am bedbound, my body growing weaker all the time. I can only interact with the world via these ectoplasm projections. It's no life." Alice then paused, realising she had just snapped at a Campione, one who had faced down four heretic gods in a brief period. They had no knowledge of his earlier Authorities, but apparently possessed many, a terrifying unknown who had devastated the southern coast of England in his battle with the knight of the sun. A being she had just snapped at, just because he had brought up a topic she tried to avoid thinking about, despite the impossibility of such a thing. It was her unfortunate lot in life after all.

She lowered her head and was about to apologise, when…

"I'm sorry."

…When Dingir apologised first, much to Alice's surprise.

"Huh?"

"I apologise for bringing up such a topic," he continued. "However I am not asking simply for curiosities sake. I possess an Authority from that being, and your 'curse' has been slowly absorbing that energy from me."

A look of fear crossed Alice's face. Dingir sensed her probing her own magical core.

"My body is…" From her tone and expression, he knew how serious it was.

Dingir felt a surge of concern.

"Does your driver know where the real you is?"

"He does," Alice replied, trying to keep her voice steady. "It's at my father's residence in the capital."

"Return to it to stop a further increase from me, I will figure out a way to deal with your issue by the time I get there." Dingir declared with absolute confidence, which wasn't a lie, he had several methods available to him; the only issue was whether he could apply it as a long term or permanent solution.

"You can actually…?" the sheer stunned sound of her words, thick with disbelief, yet counter-weighted with desperate hope.

"I am a Campione, and making the impossible be possible is my way of life."

"Alright…" She consented, beginning to fade away, but before she vanished completely, she called out to her driver. "Harold, did you hear all that?"

"Yes, my lady." Harold replied promptly, though Dingir could hear the strain in his voice, obviously caring for the fate of his employer. "I'll see that he gets there."

Alice vanished, and Dingir felt the subtle drain on his 'Yahweh' reserves desist immediately.

"Harold, was it?"

"That's right," he confirmed.

"How far away are we from her real body?" Dingir asked.

"With minimal traffic, it's a little less than two hours."

"Too long, stop the car and get out."

"What?"

A white divine aura briefly flickered around Dingir, and Harold immediately brought the car to a screeching stop on the now harder ground.

"That's better."

They both got out of the car; Harold locked it, and regarded Dingir, awaiting instruction.

"We'll fly there with my authority; you can point me in the right direction." Dingir explained to the driver, Harold nodded, remembering the six angelic wings he had shown before.

"Alright, but what about the car?" Harold asked.

Dingir simply extended a palm, black, bubbling darkness burst from his hand, taking the form of a giant black molten dragon head. "Balmung, store the car for later." It let loose a disappointed crooning shriek, and surged forward, consuming the car in a matter of seconds, the shape then shrank back into its original size, and then back beneath his skin.

Six angelic white feathered wings burst from Dingir's back.

"So Princess or Potato sack, how do you want to be carried while I fly?" Dingir asked, making a double scoop with both arms and then a one handed hoop with his right arm for emphasis.

Harold smirked, knowing he was pushing his luck by provoking a Campione, but given his relaxed bearing compared to the others, Harold couldn't pass the opportunity. "I think you know."

"Tch!"

Harold was scooped up in Dingir's arms and they were both high in the air before Alice's servant realised the Campione had moved from his initial location. "Whoa!"

"Cool, huh?" Dingir remarked, finding flight exciting, as originally his Seraphim mode, forcibly drew forth immense angelic power via his bloodline, and stored it in the form of six panels of light on his back, that vaguely resembled wings, they were no true wings however, and therefore he could not fly with them. Additionally the strain they put on his body caused him to age quicker, and affected his health heavily. Before gaining immortality though an amazing series of events (read the books) he would have died in his late thirties. But to face ancient Devils, beings comparable to gods, ordinary methods would not suffice.

John Hickson, who acted as his demon hunting mission supplier, doctor, and general annoyance had carved an illusion spell into his neck which hid his form from his few friends and family, as in reality he did not look like a man at the end of his twenties, but a white haired and wrinkled old man in his early fifties, he had arthritis, and his joints had deformed from heavy combat. However since coming to this new world and being reborn by Pandora as a Campione, Dingir had reverted to his true physical age, and was glad for it. She might be selfishly using him to protect her world, but for fixing his body, save for the demonically inflicted scars, and a chance to radically increase his power through gaining Authorities, he was willing to play along with Pandora's game.

"So where to next?" Dingir asked Harold.

"Head north-west for now," Harold replied, holding on tight as the Campione flew on with explosive speed.

* * *

 **(Scene change: Witenagemot HQ)**

Alice's father, Duke Goddodin Louise was in a state of terror and panic. His daughter had entered into a coma; her projection had informed him of the situation before dissolving into ectoplasm. He had rushed back to his daughter's location, where his comatose daughter's health was rapidly declining, he had mages and doctors doing what they could until the 8th Campione arrived, the one whom they had recently hired via the Italians to handle the Heretic god of sun and steel, Gawain.

He had won according to their seers initial reports, but the white cliffs associated with their country were now gone, that would be Hell to cover up. This Campione had apparently slain the God that had once possessed his daughter, and crippled her health as a result, but that energy within him had fuelled her current situation, so the Duke wasn't sure how to feel about the newest Campione.

Several of the Duke's staff spotted a winged man approaching from the skies. He along with his guards waited outside the property as the Campione drew close. The wings were white, feathered, and angelic. As the Campione's feet touched the ground, the wings vanished into motes of golden energy. The Campione who went by the arrogant alias of Dingir was carrying Alice's driver, and promptly set the man down in order to approach them.

The Duke regarded the Eighth Campione as he drew close. He was a large, burly man, with muscles built for combat. Scruffy black hair, piercing grey eyes, and a small amount of facial hair, a moustache and soul-patch, Dingir looked to be in his late twenties, or perhaps early thirties, a little on the pale side, but not unnaturally so. The clothing he wore was insultingly casual, a simple black tee-shirt with a V-neck, and baggy black jogging bottoms. Goddodin noticed a number of nasty battle scars peeking out from the Campione's clothing, however as a Campione he should be healed after gaining a new authority, the wounds must be very unique in nature, the wind briefly caught his tee-shirt, showing further bite, claw, and burn-like scars on his torso. It gave the relaxed bearing of the Eighth Campione a dangerous air, he did not bother with the usual show of arrogance or power because they were beneath his notice, not a threat. He was not like the Japanese king; this one had a lot of combat experience.

Duke Goddodin and the Eighth Campione Dingir stood a mere metre apart, eyes locked. "Can you save her or were your words merely a comforting lie?"

The Campione smiled faintly.

"I'll clean up this mess, don't you worry."

Dingir slipped passed him and his guards, opening the door to the property.

'When did he?'

'I didn't notice!'

Goddodin called out to Dingir, suppressing his momentary surprise. "You better save my daughter."

Those words could be deemed a threat. The Duke's guards noticeably tensed.

Dingir glanced back, not offended, he was protective of his family too. "I appreciate the sentiment."

* * *

 **(Scene change: Alice's room)**

Alice lay there motionless, her breathing barely an uneven whisper, her features gaunt and pale as the increased levels of divinity greedily fed on her dwindling life force. Her sigh was blurred; her muscles ached, feeling like they would collapse in on themselves. Alice's sickly appearance was greatly at odds with her ectoplasm appearance, which showed her at eighteen years old, before her health had truly eaten away at her appearance, in reality she was twenty-four.

She was aware of her surroundings, and was not in a coma despite those around her were saying, she simply lacked the strength to even move, speak, or open her eyes. Alice hated this, her life a meagre shell, seeing the world only as an unfeeling ghost. Then she felt a mass of divinity, dark and light, pure and evil, mixed with madness and a warrior's aura. She recognised it, it was the Eighth Campione.

Alice felt the others flee the room, Dingir entered, followed by her father.

"Sorry I took so long," Dingir said with surprising softness. "It was harder than I expected to grow one of these with my Authority, but I'm confident it will help you."

Goddodin watched with trepidation as the Campione spoke to his daughter. The man's left arm suddenly began to bubble and warp, it became thinner, purple, almost wooden in texture, and his hand warped into a demonic claw. This new arm, which was clearly part of his authority, gave off a black, perverse aura, its very existence was wrong.

 **"That which festers and births in death, I bid thee a new path, bind without rotting, consume divinity which exceeds mortality's reach, rot, oh rot away that which threatens your host, transfer excess to your master, emerge, contain, protect, guide, obey!"**

From Dingir's fingertip emerged a tiny white maggot with four horn-like protrusions coming from its head. It radiated an aura of black and white, which refused to blend into grey. It let loose a massively loud and high pitched screech, at odds for so tiny a creature.

Dingir then undid a few buttons of Alice's top, exposing several inches of her chest, but not her breasts. Even so her father, the Duke, flared up protectively at the Campione.

"What the Hell are you doing?!"

"I need skin contact for this to work." Dingir snapped, irritated by the interruption, even if he appreciated the man's feelings.

Goddodin flinched back.

Dingir then pressed his fingertip and the heavily modified Asag worm into her chest, it swiftly burrowed through her skin and muscles, it latched onto her barely beating heart, and began to greedily feed on the divine magic that was killing its new host.

Alice's aura immediately lessened to being barely more than the average witch, and Dingir felt a small, but noticeable increase in his biblical god energy, however same as it was before, he could not grasp the Authority behind it. As originally, before being changed, it had simply been a stronger application of Origin Magic, one that damn near killed him. He had only ever used the power in his original world twice, once when he was eighteen against Aka Manah, and again a year later against Nyarlathotep. The price it had demanded had been too great, and so he never used it again.

"Good…" Dingir murmured, as he noticed colour and vitality returning to the scrawny witch, the Asag worm was obeying his orders, ordinarily it would enslave and later rot away its host. But as an Authority, he had the control to have it act against its primary purpose.

"Your daughter is safe, bring the doctors and mages back in to handle the aftercare."

Goddodin rushed to his daughter's side, examining the improvement, and after the doctors and healing mages had returned, the Duke bowed to Dingir. "Thank you so much from saving my daughter's life, I can never repay such a debt."

"Yes you can." Dingir replied immediately.

The Duke looked up sharply. "What would you ask of me?"

"A place to crash when I am in England, a bounty for the God I slew in your land…and a favour."

The Duke had no issues with the first two, but neither was he a fool. "What is the nature of this favour?"

Dingir grinned. "How does one provoke the descent of a Heretic God?"

The Duke felt a chill run down his spine.

* * *

 **CHAPTER END**

 _ **Next Chapter: Father of Monsters**_

* * *

 _A/N: I hope you enjoyed the newest chapter. I'll be writing the newest chapter of my Overlord x Dingirverse story after this, so keep an eye out for it. (_ _ **This time Ainz, you are not alone**_ _)_

 _Below I'm including the Authorities that Dingir gained from Gawain, though he has yet to try to access them._

 **Authorities** **from Gawain**

 _ **Excalibur Galatine**_ _– A sword that can cut anything in two, even at vast distances using the power of the sun. (Can only be summoned once per 24 hours and during the daylight hours only, also the powerful slashing attack can only be used an hour before and after noon.)_

 _ **Lesser Sun Disciple**_ _– Summons up to twelve miniature suns to attack with directly or burn over a wide area. It can be used day or night, but is stronger during the day. If all twelve Suns are used, it cannot be summoned again until after a sunset, and then sunrise has occurred._

 _Unfortunately for Dingir the sword has many restrictions on its use. Oh well!_


	14. Father of Monsters, part 1

_**A/N:**_ _Got stuck with taxes, JS, and sorting my little brother's sick form, so I'm posting this out early, and making it a two part chapter to tide you readers over instead. I just added a little Godou, and there we go._ _Read, review, hopefully enjoy._

* * *

 **Dingir the curse of God, and now Campione?**

 _Campione X Grey Faction crossover_

* * *

 **Chapter 11: Father of Monsters, part 1**

Several weeks had passed since Godou had returned to Tokyo, having become a god slayer on his trip to Italy, slaying two gods of War, Verethragna, and Attila the Hun. From it he had gained an authority of Victory with ten avatars, and a sword of bloodlust and war.

Godou had found it to be a difficult situation, what with dealing with the history committee, his apparent lover from Italy, and keeping his god slaying status from his sister. Fortunately his sword training with Erica was a great way for him to vent his stress, and gain confidence with fighting, as violence was not a usual part of his nature, though both Authorities called for battle, glory, and death.

Godou's sword style was a bastard mix of his baseball swings, Erica's elegant swordplay, and an imitation of what he had seen on the bridge when his senpai, Dingir had duelled with the Roman God Horatius Cocles. It was far from perfect, but having seen masters fight, and his own talents for battle as a Campione, he was learning rapidly.

Godou practiced out in the backyard with a weighted bokken when he couldn't get away with Erica; his sister had proven to be surprisingly judgmental about his budding relationship with the Italian mage, assuming they were sneaking off to do perverted things at every opportunity. Which wasn't true, he still had his virginity, albeit barely.

Erica wasn't messing around with the seduction route, though she was playing to his rules, which forced him to take her seriously and not dismiss her, she dragged him off on dates nearly every night, saved her heavy flirting and skinship for in private to avoid embarrassment, though she was stubbornly insistent about holding his arm when they were outside together or in school, and demanded a goodnight kiss after escorting her home, and she never let him off with anything brief. It was always long, passionate, and her arms were like a vice if he tried to pull away early.

Godou was not gay, and his reservations aside, given she was affiliated with a foreign mage organisation, he knew sooner or later he would give in to her demands for a more physical relationship, though he rejected being rushed into anything with long term consequences, despite becoming a Campione, he refused to change his plans, he would graduate high school, college, and then find a job, then consider the wife and kids route. Though whether he could maintain a normal job as a god slayer was another matter.

He had heard through Erica that the Eighth Campione demanded a bounty be paid for each god he killed from whatever mage group was in that country, along with various favours. Since they were risking their lives to fight Heretic Gods, a retainer and bounty system seemed quite fair to Godou, he certainly didn't intend to play at tyrant as many of his 'siblings' apparently did, but neither did he want to be taken advantage of, or walked over, particularly with him being a total novice about magic and their associations prior to his fight with the Persian god of war and victory.

Upon mentioning his opinion of this, Erica rushed off to tell the History Committee of the expected 'arrangement' and he received a bank account in his name containing what could only be considered a bribe, along with a contract signed by their elders confirming a substantial pay out for every Heretic God he slew on Japanese soil henceforth. Not that any had come yet, but apparently a girl his sister knew from her tea ceremony club was actually a Miko-Hime and predicted a major threat, an all-consuming darkness in Japan's near future, with him centred in that prediction.

Godou was looking forward to it despite his original pacifism; he was feeling competitive with the older god slayer he had fought alongside. Dingir, had since leaving Italy battled a further three Heretic Gods, in England, Iceland, and India.

'I want more Authorities too…' he thought, continuing the overhead slashes.

"Onii-chan, grandpa's said dinner's going to be ready in a few minutes!" called his little sister, whom he had kept in the dark about his transition to Campione thus far.

"Okay!" he called back, pausing in his practicing to join her, the wooden katana resting on his shoulder.

Shizuka regarded her brother with mild confusion as she followed him into their home. The doctor's had said his shoulder injury was permanent, which had ended his hopes of becoming a professional baseball player, and yet recently he had been practicing with a sword, utilizing movements that were clearly impossible with his injury. Then there was the Italian woman that her brother had brought back, while it was obvious Erica really liked her brother, there was something dangerous about her that set the middle-school girl on edge.

Unfortunately her brother seemed to be growing into a miniature version of their grandfather, she'd seen them kissing, and the blonde beauty was always holding onto her brother, pressing her chest against him, and even then, she knew of at least one other girl interested in him, her senpai at the tea club periodically asked her little innocuous questions, but she was clearly probing for information on her brother.

'I guess it's true what they say, women like men who already have women.' Shizuka really hoped she never ended up like that, and if her brother did try to start a Harem, she'd have to introduce his lower half to her knee strike. Still though, the feeling of danger from the Italian woman, and her brother's apparent miraculous recovery, she would need to find out what was going on.

* * *

( **Scene change: Iceland wilderness, abandoned Nordic** **shrine** – two weeks prior)

Dingir sat their patiently amidst the shrine, emitting several Authorities worth of divine energy without manifesting his powers. By doing this in a place of worship, it would apparently call to any associated Gods, luring them to the mortal realms, at least according to Goddodin; another way was by having Miko-hime pool their power in a ritual which usually led to their deaths, but was more likely to succeed.

Dingir preferred the first method – it goes without saying.

Having two Nordic Authorities already, that being the two Grams _(his world's Balmung came from Yahweh)_ their aura and usage in a place these gods were once worshipped should attract their attention.

Dingir had been sitting there a few days already, but I wasn't like he had anywhere to be, nor did he have any friends or family in this alternate version of Earth. Though in fairness, Alice seemed to regard him highly now that she could leave her bed, and go out and about like anyone else, though her stamina was still low from a lack of exercise since she was young. He supposed he also had a slight relationship with the sixth and seventh Campione, having fought alongside them against Sigurd, Horatius, and Attila.

The ground beneath his feet was frozen now, and his arse was numb from the cold, though if not for a Campione's sturdiness and his own regeneration, Dingir would have died from the cold, everywhere was snow, and gale, and ice. The weather had changed, and gotten progressively worse since he had begun his call to the Nordic Gods. One had descended in response to his call, however they had tried to weaken or drive him off with the cold; they hid their divine presence admirably well, and had cast numerous layers of illusions in the surrounding area.

However as a Nephilim, Dingir's eyes, which glowed golden in the presence of magic, demons, or in response to his killing intent, could see through and understand magic or any form of mysticism. It sadly did not help his lack of magical talent, but as a Devil hunter, it was a valuable tool.

The Heretic God that had responded was Loki, stepson of Odin, former prince of the Ice giants, and master of magic, illusions, and trickery.

Dingir could sense Loki's impatience, and sooner or later he would stop hiding and attempt a sneak attack. The fight would be one-sided and brutally swift, he had not taken this world seriously enough, too confident in his immortality, and Gawain had made him suffer for it. All Gods henceforth would be crushed with his full strength, no hesitation, no mercy, if they lasted, they lasted, if they died instantly, then that was that. It was how he had hunted Devils and demons.

He had his own tricks and traps ready.

'Come when you are ready, Loki.' Dingir thought, ignoring the cold, awaiting the God' first attack, however was unaware his aura had attracted the notice of a certain someone from the Balkans, and was now on their way, ready for the hunt.

A day later, Loki struck!

Dingir suddenly rolls to the side as an intricate wooden blade, almost spear-like stabbed where he had been an instant ago.

Loki was a blonde man of average height, which ran down his back, a lithe musculature common in swimmers and fighters that favoured speed over brute force. He had green eyes and a rather large nose, and wore elaborate red and gold clothing that verge between being armour and robes.

"Tch! You're fast God Slayer." Loki remarked, his skin turning blue, and textured like ice or stone.

"And you took your time with the sneak attack," Dingir retorted, Balmung spreading over his body, transforming into Asag's demonic armour. _**"The curse be thy body, the great enemy will be thy power, wrap in deepest shadows, procreate the greatest poison, Oh rot away lowly ones, the great might consumes all sanity and delivers death!"**_

" _ **The sword of the perfect knight given to carry out the will of justice, to slice the wicked, to slay evil, now burn bright, Excalibur Galatine!"**_ A green and gold fae sword appearing in his right hand, the Excalibur Galatine, while hidden by his armour, his normally grey eyes burned like molten gold, seeing all of the stacked layers of illusions and traps that the Aesir had prepared if his 'assassination failed.'

" _ **Grant me wings of darkness, oh great prince!"**_ Dingir chanted, channelling Belial's Authority to form wings, the words slamming into his subconscious, demanding to be used as a focus. Wings burst from his back, this time as set of two scaled bat-like wings, as angel purification wasn't going to help here, plus they were damaged easily in a fight.

In addition, by using both Grams to summon Loki, he wouldn't be able to give them form for a while. It didn't matter; he wanted to test his new Authorities anyway, it was for that reason that Voban had chosen to sacrifice the many witches and Miko-hime to summon one, so as to avoid weakening himself before the fight. "Shall we get started?"

" **You'll regret your actions, I am a God!"** Loki declared with the relaxed, yet prideful confidence that came from being a deity. His body suddenly swelled into a gigantic ice giant, hundreds of feet tall, his clothing turning into primitive armour that left much of his legs and arms bare. **"I am the giant, I am the ice, I am the prince of two, and so my wrath is double, my might divine and heavier than the mountains!"**

Dingir flew into the air as the Heretic God chanted, and now level with Loki's head, he remarked mockingly. "It sounds better when Tom Hiddleston says it." Referencing the actor who played Loki in the Marvel movies, and apparently those movies existed in his world, as Loki's eyes narrowed dangerously, gigantic fists clenching tight, he had been close to descending for that reason, the humans hadn't got him right at all. Of course his brother Thor didn't mind, the violent killer of gods and giants rather liked being portrayed as a handsome, bearded hero.

"He's better looking too." Dingir added.

A seemingly mountain sized fist crashing into his armoured face was Dingir's reward for his biting words.

* * *

 **CHAPTER END**

 _ **Next Chapter: Father of Monsters, part 2**_

* * *

 _A/N: Whooo!_

 _Be sure to stick around for more Campione. If you want to learn more about the other half of the crossover, get yourself a copy of the Grey Faction novels or comics online. :)_

 **Grey Faction:** _"Five years have passed since the secret magical war between contractor-mages raged, killing millions. However as it has always done, the world moves on. Young Reina never knew that magic was real, but when caught in a demonic ritual, she has no choice but to believe, adapt, and survive."_

 _Available on amazon, lulu, Barnes & Noble, in paperback, hardback, and kindle/eBook._


	15. Father of Monsters, part 2

_**A/N:**_ _Nearly bled out last week, it seems reality wants to bust my chops for making an immortal version of myself in fiction. But you're not killing me off today! Seriously though it was pretty fucking close, and it scared the crap out of me. Now back to a version of me that no longer fears death, thank you Balmung._

* * *

 **Dingir the curse of God, and now Campione?**

 _Campione X Grey Faction crossover_

* * *

 **Chapter 12: Father of Monsters, part 2**

"Damn…This is actually pretty rough," Dingir remarked as he was sent flying back, knocking over countless trees before being forced into the side of a mountain, which cracked with the force of Loki's ice giant attacks. Even so, Dingir slowly climbed back out of the hole in the mountain, protected for the most part by the Asag armour, though the sheer concussive force had almost turned his insides to mush. Dingir could feel blood streaming from his lips, but Dingir also knew that Balmung was already healing him, so he ignored it.

Loki's fist was waiting for him.

Dingir kicked the rock without holding back on Asag's strength, the result was that the remains of the small mountain shattered like dropped glass, and the armoured Campione was propelled like a space rocket, he pieced through Loki's fist, out the side of his wrist, and through the giants chest, and high into the sky, while a torrent of icy blue blood spewed out Loki's back, flash freezing everything it touched.

"Gah!" Loki stumbled back with a pained gasp, yet despite the shock that he had suffered a mortal wound, he immediately froze the two major wounds, granting himself precious seconds to separate from his ice giant form, returning to his Asgardian form.

Loki stood atop his giant avatar, and before it crumbled into a vast sea of golden motes of light, he pointed his right hand towards the still rocketing Campione. White hot magical plasma gathered in his palm, swirling, pulsing, and waiting to be unleashed.

" **I am the master of the mystic arts; my power rivals the thunder, strike down all unworthy foes, for my light begets death!"** Loki chanted as the energy ever increased. He then unleashed a beam of energy that couldn't be viewed as anything but a Dragon Ball Z ki-attack.

Dingir whose ascent had almost taken him out of orbit, grew angelic wings, as he was able to channel them quicker, and suddenly veered to the side to avoid the beam, it blasted into space, however that was an illusion cast by Loki, one of many he had trapped the area with. Dingir's eyes allowed him to see through magic, but he didn't seem to notice this one as he fell back to Earth, the area around him burning up from re-entry. The beam in fact, split into six, curved and followed him back to the surface.

Dingir began using his wings, speeding up his fall, heading towards Loki, luring the beams to hit Loki first, however as Dingir drew closer, words echoed in the wind, and he realised his mistake, the God of mischief wasn't just relying on his illusions to trick him, so pretending to be fooled by them, or at least the stronger ones wasn't as effective as a strategy.

" **From the Jotunn comes the fiercest blizzard, freeze all that dare face me, Niflheim!"** A gigantic wall of ice appeared between the two, as thick as the distance between them, and Dingir was crushed up against the ice, body crumpling from the immense force combined with his descent.

The six beams of light followed behind, intending to finish the job, however six miniature suns appeared from the sky, and intercepted each of the beams Loki had fired. _**'Oh Christ, thy followers shalt take the form and glory of the sun, burn all to cinders, for I am thy knightly messenger!'**_

The suns of course remained, and at Dingir's befuddled mental orders, who had been flattened within the armour, the suns moved around the ice at high speeds, to kill Loki. Slowly Dingir recovered, his body inflating, growing new organs and bones, however it was a slower process than he was used to, much like with Gawain, who had used the same suns he was now using, it was an excruciating process. Out of necessity he had to undo his armour, which had been crushed flat as well, and impeded his regeneration.

The sight was not pleasant.

Meanwhile Loki was forced to keep moving for as a being of ice, the suns were extremely dangerous to him. But they were fast, and despite having god speed, their number posed a threat. He used Lævateinn to summon more ice to intercept the suns; however the suns easily passed through them.

"I suppose it cannot be helped…"

Loki gathered his divine power and summoned forth a divine beast, one of his children, who due to his modified nature had emerged as intelligent yet powerful monsters. Only his daughter Hel was the exception, but the goddess of death was still a monster, only one in the form of a woman.

" **Great eight legged steed of the mountains and underworld, by my blood I summon you forth,"** Loki chanted, holding his Laevateinn, the odd sword-staff, which represented his dual nature. **"Stolen by the All-Father, yet forever faithful; now descend from Asgard, Sleipnir!"**

An eight legged horse with three eyes ran down from the skies in contradiction to gravity, thunder crackling on its many hooves. It was a massive steed; easily three times the size of an ordinary horse, its skin was golden, and its main black as the darkest night. Its speed was remarkable, the instant its hooves touched the ground, Loki was grabbed by the scruff of his clothing by Sleipnir's teeth, and casually placed on his broad horse back.

Its speed was such that it easily evaded the miniature suns. Loki laughed gaily now that he had the upper hand. 'It is a pity we are not near the sea or I could end this with, Jormungand, even so with forests here, I still have…' Loki began to chant again, as Dingir, now fully recovered, and flew over the massive ice wall with his six angelic wings to see Loki using his next Authority.

" **Shatter the chains of the traitorous Gods, slayer of Odin come forth upon the legends of Ragnarok, great hound of my blood, awaken, Fenrir!"** From the earth amidst the remaining trees, burst forth a wolf of gigantic proportions, fur all-black, and the size of a dinosaur, it could easily swallow a man and horse with a single bite, its fangs and claws gleamed like silver, and as it saw Dingir in the sky, Fenrir let loose a massive howl before leaping towards him, bounding off the ice wall from earlier. Without his armour, and unable to fly away in time, Dingir slashed hard against one of Fenrir's fangs, repelling them both and for the moment out of the reach of that vast fanged maw.

'Finally…' Loki grinned, Dingir was directly above the ice wall now, and those thousands of feet of distance were meaningless. **"From the Jotunn comes the fiercest blizzard, freeze all that dare face me, Niflheim!"** The existing ice wall suddenly surged upwards, completely engulfing and trapping Dingir. Loki could sense Fenrir's distaste at being used as a mere distraction, but it couldn't be helped.

Loki continued to avoid the suns, but they gradually slowed, before coming stationary.

"It would seem you shalt die soon, God Slayer!" Loki crooned with victory, the tiny humanoid shape in the ice, unable to move. It was then in that moment of delight that a further six suns, struck Loki all at once, from every side. Sleipnir tried to move away, but the suns expanded, destroying the horse shaped divine beast. Loki however was burnt almost to a crisp by the suns before they vanished.

Dingir stood before Loki, his body freshly skinned of its all flesh, and slowly re-growing, it was a ghastly sight. Dingir held the Excalibur Galatine ready for the final strike.

Loki dimly noted the frozen ice still held a human shape. "I see…when trying to break free of my **Niflheim** , your skin was already frozen and dead… you had to pull yourself free of your own skin to escape."

" _ **I us**_ _ed_ _ **my P**_ _estil_ _ **ence to**_ _create a_ _ **n exit**_ _i_ _ **n the**_ _ice beh_ _ **ind me,**_ _but it_ _ **is as**_ _yo_ _ **u**_ _s_ _ **ay."**_ Dingir answered, though his current manner of speaking was warbled and guttural, barely understandable, but the pain, along with the lack of lips was a fine excuse for this.

All that open muscle, and still spewing red blood, set Fenrir's hunting instincts aflame, and he bounded towards the mouthful of skinned meat that was Dingir; however the Eighth Campione was ready for him. **"Peerless sheath, the loving parent, formless yet eternal, now consume endlessly, Balmung!"** Balmung, which was currently healing Dingir, also burst from his back in a torrent of thick, tar-like liquid, it surrounded the massive Fenrir, and soon the massive wolf god resembled an ordinary animal that had stumbled into quick sand or perhaps a violent sea. It thrashed violently with panicked howls, resisting Balmung with admirable, panicked effort.

Dingir never took his eyes of Loki, his golden gaze confirming Loki was actually there.

"It…was worth a try…" Loki coughed, body crumbling away, the ice giant part of him so weak against the many sun Authorities that Dingir possessed.

Dingir sliced off Loki's head with the Excalibur Galantine. " **No…I** t wa **sn** 't." Fenrir vanished in that same instant into motes of golden light, and Balmung surged back to Dingir, covering his body, acting as his skin, while a new set of flesh grew beneath.

Once Loki had died, the snow and ice all vanished, though the giant ice wall would remain until another later battle destroyed it. After that, Dingir retrieved his clothing, having to peal it off his former skin, and then unfreezing the material by holding up to one of the suns. It was a disturbing process, but Dingir had known much worse, though re-growing one's dangly parts was a very odd experience. Sadly Balmung never gave him anything extra.

Roughly two hours after leaving Iceland, the first Campione Voban arrived, riding the back of a wolf, with others following him, a hunting pack that was a part of his Authority. However the newest Campione he had been hearing so much about was not on the island nation anymore. Voban's anger at being denied a fight soon turned to joy as another Heretic God descended with blackening skies and raging lightning at the location of Loki's death. It was Thor, son of Odin, and God of Thunder. He had sensed the death of his brother, and came to avenge him, he would not get the chance however as Voban was waiting for him.

Thor was a monstrously cruel and evil warrior that slaughtered gods and giants for sport, and occasionally for his father, he was one of the more powerful deities, particularly when considering he was not a first generation god. Thor had never met Voban before however. The centuries old God Slayer would show Thor what a real ruthless and cruel warrior was like.

* * *

 **CHAPTER END**

 _ **Next Chapter: A god much like myself**_

* * *

 _A/N: I hope you enjoyed the newest chapter, please review._

 _Also if you want to see the original Dingir in action, get yourself a copy of Mistaken Apostles._

* * *

 **Authorities gained from Loki**

 **Father of Monsters** \- Summon any of the three monster children of Loki, but only one can be summoned per day, and each can only be summoned in specific places. The wolf can only be summoned in forests and mountains, the serpent only in or near the sea; as for the steed, it can be summoned anywhere on land, but only for transport and evasion, not attacking. Can only be used and maintained with the Laevateinn in hand.

 **Laevateinn -** A wooden, staff-like sword that can only be used to harm by stabbing from behind, otherwise useless as a sword, but can cast a powerful ice attack called **Niflheim** , and show illusions by using the ice's surface as medium.


End file.
